Tempest
by SepticLovebite
Summary: It felt like there was no hope for them anymore.
1. Tempest

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews on Fix. This is my next multi-chapter fiction!

TWDTWDTWD

Carol could not decide whether or not she loved thunderstorms. Back before the world went to hell, she loved them. There was nothing more relaxing than being snuggled under the covers, listening to the low rumble of thunder rolling across the heavens and the patter of rain against the glass. Now however, thunderstorms were unbearable.

Without warning, the sky turned black, fat raindrops hitting their heads as they sat around the campfire one evening and within a moment, they were all soaked to their skins. Three days later, it lingered still. Sometimes it were only a fine misty drizzle, the kind that chilled you straight to the bones, other times, it were just like being in the middle of a tsunami.

Every last member of the group was miserable. Every day there seemed to be someone crying or throwing a tantrum about something or other. The former was usually Beth or Lori, the latter Daryl or Maggie. Carol was sick and tired of having to placate or comfort them. She wished they'd all just grow up. The group was just like the weather, temperamental yet relentless. It felt like there was no hope for them anymore.

Rick was becoming more and more crotchety with every passing day, barking orders at all of them and Lord help you if you didn't do what he wanted fast enough. He listened to no-one, not even about the most trivial things. Except for Daryl. Whatever he said was golden. It was frustrating to say the least, if only because Daryl had absolutely no desire to become the sheriff's second in command.

She had given up trying to talk to either of them. That first night out of the Greene farm, she had spoken out and angered them both and it was all for nothing. Sometimes she wished she had the courage to walk away. Sometimes, albeit less frequently, she wished for the courage to "opt out". The thought didn't seem as crazy as it should've been.

Every evening they set out the tents. The cars were crammed full of bodies and supplies and were not the best to sleep in. But putting out the tents meant getting soaked to the skin and Carol never seemed to get dry once that happened. Sleeping in a tent, alone, during a thunderstorm was not much fun.

It hadn't always been a case of sleeping alone. There weren't that many tents in the beginning and they had to share. Her's was only a small pop up that could barely fit two, but Daryl had crawled in after his night watch on more than one occasion. She was perfectly happy with the arrangement, even though they barely spoke to each other anymore. But then she ruined it. Somehow, she had ended up curled around him one night and she didn't know how long for. When she woke up that morning, head tucked under his neck, arms wrapped around his waist, she had tried to untangle herself as quietly as possible. It didn't work. He never said a word about it, but he never came back.

Finally, Daryl told Rick they had to find more suitable shelter, at least until the weather turned drier. It took another wet and miserable night, but then Daryl found the barn.

It wasn't entirely dry, slightly crumbling, it would not protect them if a herd of Walkers knew they were in there, but when the tents were pitched inside the hay barn, it were almost like being inside a house. It shielded them from view and from the howling gales and that was enough for now.

Carol had very little in the way of clothes. She had what was on her back, one extra shirt and one pair of pants. Three pairs of socks. Four pairs of panties. A sweater that was scavenged from the boot of someone's abandoned car. It was far too big and wasn't waterproof but it was the best she had. It was all sopping wet. Every last item. It was depressing to say the least.

So when they all retired to bed that night, she hung a makeshift line in her tent, attempting to dry things out as best she could before settling to sleep. Her teeth chattered from the cold and eventually she decided there was nothing else for it, she would have to strip out of her wet things and sleep naked inside the sleeping bag. She only hoped that this night would not be the night that a herd came ploughing through.

As she settled herself down, she could hear Daryl pacing back and forth in the barn. Despite the shelter, he could not rest, especially when it was his turn to watch. She heard him climb the ladder to the rafters and back down again, the click of the crossbow or the gun. Still she must have gotten to sleep eventually, because she was startled awake by the crinkle of the zip on her tent opening.

She sat up with a start, hand going immediately to the nearest item of clothing, still damp in her palm and then she realised it was him. There was no urgency in his pace. He ducked under the makeshift wash line, ignoring her entirely as he slid beside her, not even bothering to tug off his boots or find a blanket.

Carol hoped it was dark enough so that he would not spot her bare skin as she slid back into the sleeping bag, dropping the shirt. He seemed intent on avoiding her gaze anyway, his arms folded above his head, eyes fixed on the roof of the tent. She wondered why he chose to come to her tonight, of all nights. It was as if he _knew_ that it was the one night she wanted to be alone.

Still, it would be futile to ask the question. He was never one for talking. The wind continued to howl outside, rattling some of the wood panelling of the barn. Every so often there would a louder bang and Carol couldn't help but jump. She was so tired of being frightened of every damn thing all the time.

She turned on her side, away from Daryl, burying her head in sleeping bag to try and block out the noise a little. It was largely unsuccessful.

"It ain't nothin' but wind, no Walkers or nothin' out there." Daryl whispered the words into the darkness. The first ones for several days. He sounded a little impatient and Carol let herself sigh.

"I know, I know." She murmured back.

"Then stop jumpin' all the damn time." He grumbled, shifting slightly, his shoulder bumped up against her back and they both flinched at the contact, shuffling the inch apart, the most they could get in the tiny tent.

Carol bit her tongue, physically holding back the retort that was bursting to come out. She didn't ask him to come in to her tent. She didn't want his company, not if it were filled with barbs and cold shoulders. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend that she was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Perhaps on a warm beach, Sophia playing in the waves. Or back in Arizona, the state where she went to college. Or, Miami, where she spent spring break one year with her girlfriends. Anywhere but the leaky barn, freezing her butt off in a damp sleeping bag.

TWDTWDTWD

Avoiding Carol was both painful and a relief. She kept looking at him with reproachful eyes and sometimes it made him feel guilt as fuck and other times it made him want to scream in her face. Sleeping in the tent with her was not a decision he made consciously, just one that seemed to happen. It wasn't like there was much choice.

It was alright, until he woke up in the middle of the night with her just about all over him. She had her head buried in his shirt, her hands clutching at him in a grip so tight he thought she would leave little marks where her nails dug in. She was in a grip of a nightmare of some sort, her breath was ragged and shallow and her legs twitched against his.

His instinct was to pull away, get the hell out of there, but it was pouring with rain and it just seemed cruel to do it to her. She whimpered in her sleep and he figured he'd just leave her there til her grip slackened and he could roll a little further away from her. Except it didn't go quite go to plan. He didn't mean to fall back to sleep but she was just so damn warm and it was kind of nice, having her next to him.

But she woke up before him and she was clearly feeling as awkward as he did about it all. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing and he didn't go back in that tent. So why he went back there the night they found the barn, he didn't know. Clearly he was going fucking soft. He'd been spending way too long with this group.

It was only when he lay down next to her and bumped his arm against her back that he realised she was naked. What the fuck was she thinking? Any minute they could have to pick up and run and she was laying there, as naked as the day she was born.

He wanted to tell her exactly that, but then he considered where that conversation could lead and it was just a whole can of worms that he didn't want to open. And besides, every conversation that they had these days ended in an argument. There were bigger things to worry about.

She trembled all night. From cold or from fear, he couldn't tell. He tried to ignore it, but it was pretty hard when there was about two inches of space between them and he could literally feel her vibrate against him. He considered getting out of there, but Glenn was the one on watch after him and he didn't want to have to deal with the kid's inquisition. Glenn was alright, he never used to think so, but the kid was fine by him, apart from the motor mouth.

He just itched to do something. Tell her off for wearing so little when it was so cold, do something to stop her shaking so bad. He didn't even know what he wanted to do. But he didn't like sitting still.

He slept fitfully. It must have been the third or fourth time that his eyes snapped open and this time it was because there was a warm weight against his side. Carol wasn't trembling as much now, but she'd pulled her arms free from the covers and one was thrown carelessly over his stomach, her head resting on his chest, the other arm curled up under his bicep, fingers pressing into his shoulder.

There was no extricating himself from this without disturbing her. All he could think of was that she was _naked_ and she was pressed right up against him. He might see something she wouldn't want him seeing and if she woke up...well he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to look her in the eye ever again. So he forced down the discomfort that seemed to have manifested itself with a lump in his throat and closed his eyes, tucking his arms under his head to stop himself accidently touching her. Let her deal with the awkwardness this time, it was her fault, after all.

He woke first, because he always did, but she was still sleeping, cheek pressed against the bottom of his neck, he could feel her hot breath on his flesh as she slept. His hands had moved, entirely unbeknown to him and one of them lay across the back of her bare shoulder, her skin cool under his touch. His hand twitched and he forced his breathing to return to normal. He reminded himself that this was her problem to deal with and he'd be damned if he was going to get embarrassed over it.

He felt her shift slowly, limbs tensing and releasing as she woke herself and then he felt her go still, probably because she realised how she had slept. She pulled herself away slowly and he let his amr go limp and hit the floor as her shoulders came away. He heard the rustle of clothes being hunted out and only when he heard the zip of her boots did he allow his eyes open.

He didn't say a word to her as he sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Hardly even looked at her, even though he could feel her gazing at him. He unzipped the tent and spotted Rick, sitting on a bale of hay close to the doors, using the light between the slats of the barn to pore over a map.

"I've decided where we should go next." The man told him by way of morning greeting. Daryl sighed. Rick was getting to be hard work. He appreciated the way the former sheriff finally took control of the group, because if everyone looked to him as leader, then he had to damn well act like it. But sometimes, well sometimes it just felt like he'd plain old lost it.

"Yeah?" He sat next to him, following Rick's finger as he traced the route upwards, over 30 miles away from where they were now and he squinted to look at their destination. There were noises of the others now, some of them coming to stand behind him. He thought Carol might be one of them, though he didn't dare to look.

"You wanna go to a fuckin' _prison_?"


	2. Offering

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reads and reviews! All are much appreciated!

TWDTWDTWD

A prison. Rick wanted to take them to a prison. Carol sighed when Daryl repeated his question, turning away before hearing the answer, going to get a start on breakfast. Once the word was heard by all, everyone began to speak at once, each opinion voicing itself louder than the one before it, leaving Carol shaking her head at them as she clattered silverware and plates.

"A prison? Are you insane?" Lori's tone was icy. Then again, her tone was often icy with Rick these days. Carol wondered, if the world were not the mess it was now, whether Rick and Lori would even still be married. She doubted it.

"What better place to stay safe, than a prison?" Rick told her.

"Prison's keep bad people in, not out." She spat back at him. "And who knows what's in there? Either hundreds of bad people or hundreds of dead people. Either option is pretty crappy, Rick." Lori turned on her heel, marching towards Carol, face like thunder.

"Please tell me you agree." She said to Carol by way of greeting. Carol looked up from her crouch on the floor, fiddling with a can opener.

Carol didn't say anything for a moment, taking a furtive glance at the huddle of people by the door. She couldn't hear everything that was being said, but she could see Glenn gesticulating wildly, but his face wasn't all that concerned.

"What does it matter?" She asked in a mutter, careful not to be overheard. "Face it Lori, whatever they say, we'll go along with. What choice do we have?" She thrust an open can of peaches out to Carl, who had wandered over to them. The boy took the can eagerly, not even bothering with his fork as he dug into his breakfast.

"It's insane. I swear, sometimes, I think he's lost..." Lori's gaze fell on her son and she stopped herself saying what she really wanted to say. She thought Rick was losing his mind. Carol half wondered herself.

It didn't matter anyway. If Rick had Daryl's backing, and to a lesser extent, Glenn and T-Dog's, then it hardly mattered what anyone else thought. Those men provided the protection, provided the food. Everyone else would be lost without them.

She busied herself with dishing out the food, then folding up her still damp clothes. By the time she had done everything she could do, Rick was gathering them up in the centre of the tents. She hung in the background, arms folded, head down low.

"So, we're heading to a prison about 28 miles north east of here. The aim is to try and make camp a few miles away, whatever we can, then a team will go scouting the building, see what's what. On the way, we'll try and replenish supplies. Other than that, it's just a case of see what happens."

Lori snorted and rolled her eyes, turning away from them and Rick shot her a look that was a mixture of apology and irritation.

"If anyone has anything useful to contribute, then feel free. But if we're all settled then Glenn and I are heading out to get some supplies, everyone else is to stay here. Daryl has said he's going to go hunting."

No-one said a word, although Maggie shifted from one foot to another, which suggested that perhaps she wasn't as happy with the arrangement as Glenn was, because the younger man laid a hand on her arm, as if he knew she were about to say something.

Rick nodded as he surveyed the group before heading to his tent, Lori was fast on his heels, ranting at him immediately.

Within ten minutes, Glenn, Rick and Daryl had gone, leaving Carol with an awful headache and a sharp pang of loneliness.

TWDTWDTWD

He wasn't actually confident that the prison was a great idea. It wasn't the worst idea he'd ever heard but it just seemed...unnecessary. There were only ten of them. The prison probably had the capacity for hundreds, maybe thousands. That was a lot of building to patrol.

He hated to say it, even to himself, but maybe Lori had a point. There would've likely been hundred of inmates locked up and he doubted that they'd all stayed alive. More than likely they were Walkers. That's if the prison was even there for the taking. Maybe a bunch of inmates were using it as a bolt hole. And you couldn't trust cons. Not now, not when you didn't know what they had been locked up for.

But it was something to aim for. There'd been too much aimless wandering for his liking. There was a crunch of leaves behind him, interrupting his thoughts and he whirled around, letting loose an arrow without a moment's hesitation. It speared through the head of the doe cleanly and the creature fell to the ground quickly.

He let himself smile at his catch, the first of any real worth in a few days. They'd been travelling too far away from any woods to hunt before and the area he was using now wasn't ideal, he hadn't been expecting more than a couple of squirrels. He pulled his knife and gloves out, setting to work on field dressing the doe.

Of course, the prison would mean less opportunities like this, to hunt. It was built in the middle of a town and the map didn't show any greenery for a few miles. He relished these times, an opportunity to be alone, which is how he liked it. Andrea used to offer to come with him, Glenn was fairly eager to learn too, but Daryl had never once accepted their offers. He wasn't interested in teaching anyone anything, he had no patience for it. Besides, the point was to be quick and silent and not one of them could do it like he could.

It wasn't the largest of does, not too difficult to haul the mile or so back to camp. Rick and Glenn still weren't back, although it wasn't even mid afternoon yet, so there was plenty of time to start worrying. He spotted T-Dog circling the barn, the old man a few foot away doing the same thing. Most of the women were crowded around a small fire burning between the cars, using the vehicles to block out the light of the flames some.

He dragged the deer to the edge of the circle, heaving it up to dump it on the hood of the truck and they all jumped at the sound. He shook his head at them, heading to the barn to find his bag, grab the tools he need to cut the meat up.

Carol was there before he could reach his bag, hand holding out the roll he kept his knives in. She nodded at him and he took them from her, heading back out to do what he intended. At least somebody noticed if someone came strolling into camp. He wondered how some them survived before the Walkers, let alone now.

He was quick at the job. The rain had stopped whilst he was out hunting, but the sky was black, threatening more rain soon and he was pretty sure that he'd be the only one who'd eat raw deer when the fire went out.

"Hey!" He called out to the group at the fire, hand holding out a piece of meat ready for cooking. Carol jumped up to take it from him, but he wasn't looking at her, his gaze wandered past her towards Lori, who upon spotting the meat began retching heartily. He couldn't help but smirk, Carol caught him and threw him a look of disapproval.

Less than 20 minutes later, there was a rumble of an engine and Daryl squinted into the distance to see Rick and Glenn returning. He was pleased to see that the car was pretty full. He finished up pulling the meat off the carcass, handing the last of it to Carol before heading off to the little river just across the ways, rinsing quickly and heading back just as the men began unloading.

"We found somewhere closer to hole up." Rick told him as he handed him a drum of water. He spoke only to Daryl, although Lori and T-Dog lingered nearby, hanging on to every word. "This town we went to...it hadn't been touched, I mean, nothing. Like, everyone got bit before they could get out. Loaded with Walkers sure, but definitely worth going into. It took us less than a couple of hours to fill the car. It only took us this long because we were hunting out a place to stay. It's seven miles from the prison."

Daryl nodded. "Alright. How far from the town?"

"Couple of miles. It's nothing much, a farmhouse. Not all that big, but it'll do for a few days. We cleared out the Walkers, bolted it all up so nothing can get in, it's way off the main road."

"Water? Forest?" These were questions that Daryl didn't need to ask, they were absolute musts wherever they went for more than a night, the main reason they kept moving, because nothing came up as good as the Greene farm.

"No well but there's a river, much bigger than this. Some woods. Spotted a couple of squirrels." Rick winked at him and Daryl let himself smirk. He'd be quite alright surviving in a tent in the rickety barn, hell, he'd slept in far worse. They had water nearby, if the doe he'd just hacked up was anything to go by, the game was pretty good too. But he saw some of the others' reactions, the noses that wrinkled in disdain at their shelter.

"Tomorrow, then?" He asked.

Rick nodded, moving a sack into the barn. "Got some warm clothes here, if you want to sort through them." He told his wife and the woman nodded, following him into the barn. Even though she whispered, Daryl could hear her inquisition from his spot at the car. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of being watched and he turned to catch Carol looking up at him, crouched beside the fire, turning the meat on a handmade spit.

"Can you pass me that tray?" She asked him, nodding to the item in question, just a few steps away from his feet, next to the coolbox. Carol had asked him to distract from the fact that she was staring, she hadn't meant to. She was eavesdropping on Rick and Daryl's conversation just to get information on their plans. She never knew what they were doing from one day to the next and it was the only way she would hear anything.

He picked up the tray and passed it over. "You might wanna get a move on with that, s'gonna piss down any minute now."

"Going as fast as I can." She sighed out to him, turning back to the fire to change the meat on the skewers.

She kept at the fire for as long as possible. The doe would provide enough meat for their next meal as well, but only if she managed to cook it before the rain came, otherwise it would've spoiled. She hated waste. Carol ignored the hustle and bustle of the others unloading the car, the whoops of joy as clothes were handed out. She wished she could hand the cooking over to someone else so she could pick out something better to keep her warm, but no-one seemed to linger around the fire. Lori was usually the other person to help her with the cooking, but she was back to retching over meat and Carol didn't feel like asking her to endure the bloody steaks.

The rain fell in fat drops almost an hour later, slow at first and Carol turned the meat a little more, she was on the last few pieces, desperate to finish it off. The others had all retreated inside, Daryl was circling the barn as she finished up, crossbow in hand.

He came towards her as she covered up her cooked meat, pulling the hood on the too-big sweatshirt to cover her face from the wet.

"Here." Daryl's hand was outstretched and he crouched down to her, a few blackberries in his palm, plump and shiny. "Birds got the rest of 'em."

She smiled up at him, knowing that this gesture was a rare one, an unexpected surprise. She held her hand out and he cupped her hand with his, tipping them into her open palm carefully.

"Eat 'em before the rest of those vultures spot 'em." He popped one into his own mouth before going round the cars shutting the doors.

They were perfectly ripe, the sweet yet sharp taste flooding her mouth as she bit into them. She couldn't remember the last time she tasted something so nice. She wanted to thank him for the offering, he could've easily eaten them himself, there was hardly enough for one person really but he never seemed to take too kindly to that in the past.

The rain came down heavier now, the fire starting to burn out but she kept going, intending to take advantage of the flames until the very last one was nothing but sodden ash. Daryl had gone in a few minutes earlier and nobody had called for her. Not entirely unsurprising. She often felt like an afterthought these days.

"Hey! Get your ass in here!" Daryl broke her from her maudlin train of thought, head poking out from the barn door.

"Just a minute, it's nearly done!" She called back. The wind was picking back up again. Another rough night.

She turned her back to the barn, picking up the last of the meat, gathering up what would be lost in the wind if left, when her arm was clasped in a vice-like grip, jerking her up from the ground.

"Come on! You wanna get blown away?" Daryl yelled in her face, bending down to scoop up the last two spits, pushing her into the barn. The door slammed behind them and T-Dog worked on bolting it down for the night.

Carol dropped the food in the centre of the tents, where Lori was at work opening cans of vegetables and she couldn't resist shivering.

"Lord, you are soaked through Carol!" She exclaimed and Carol bit her lip, holding back the comment she really wanted to make.

"I'll be back in a minute. Just going to change." She muttered, ducking into her tent. She knew that yesterday's clothes wouldn't be dry but they would have to be better than what she was wearing at that minute. She crawled across the sleeping bag and her hands fell on unfamiliar material. Pants. Shirt. Fleece sweater. Socks. She almost swooned. When she heard of the bag of clothes, she hoped for something, if only a coat, but this even better.

"Hey, there's a bag of clothes out here..." Lori's head crept in but her words tailed off when she saw Carol holding the bundle of clothes. "Oh, you got in there already, good."

"No, I didn't, I thought you left them here."

Lori shook her head. "Must've been one of the others." She didn't wait for an answer before ducking back out.

Carol dressed quickly and when she stepped out of the tent the rest of them were grouped together, picking at their dinner. Maggie handed her a plate and as she sat down Daryl looked across her from the circle and gave her a small nod.

She knew exactly who one of the "others" was.


	3. Defeat

Author's Notes: Thank you. You people honestly make my days. Find me on Twitter and Tumblr under SepticLovebite!

TWDTWDTWD

The farmhouse was most certainly small. Just two bedrooms, each with a double bed and and a small box room with almost nothing at all in it. A kitchen diner, a small sitting room and a bathroom that was utterly useless. All on one floor. Daryl was pretty certain he'd last less than week without killing someone in these close confines.

He ignored the women as they set to their usual routine of setting up their kitchen space and allocating rooms and blankets. Not that he ever listened anyway. If they ever tried to get him to share with anyone, he usually slept somewhere else. Resting was a vulnerable position to be in and he didn't like sharing that with someone else if he didn't absolutely have to.

And Carol didn't count, he told himself quickly. He set to work on familiarising himself with the land, the water sources and the very little security they had. By the time he got back, the sun was beginning to set and dinner was served.

He pushed the tinned macaroni cheese around on his plate, forcing himself to choke it down between sips of water. He hated this tinned crap. He ate everything, because food was food and he needed every bit he could get.

Rick was still talking about the plan to head into the nearest town in the morning, wanting to gather up more ammo, more everything. Daryl didn't even care. They had enough for now and he was more interested in ploughing onto the prison. The only thing he was interested in was a truck. Riding the bike in the pouring rain was no fun at all and even though the vehicle was far too loud and unable to carry any load, therefore pretty useless, he couldn't bring himself to leave it behind.

It was the last piece left of his brother. His piece of shit, good for nothing brother. But kin all the same. It just felt wrong to leave it. Not until he knew that Merle wasn't coming back for it. So he was on the hunt for a truck, any pick up would do, so long as it got him about with the bike in the back. He figured Rick wouldn't mind, because the bike was a waste of precious gas and at least he could carry some supplies in the truck.

Not that he would give a shit if Rick _did _mind. He did what he wanted. He deferred to Rick because it suited him. He agreed with most of his decisions and if didn't affect him, he didn't give a crap. He was beginning to realise that Rick actually thought what Daryl had to say was relevant and that gave him a certain amount of leeway.

"Right, let's get some shut eye and we'll get a move on early tomorrow." Rick told them and with that, there was a scramble to get off the floor, the women scooping up dishes that would be dealt with whilst the others were out the next day.

"No, it's alright, I don't mind sleeping on the floor." He heard Carol telling T-Dog. "Honestly, you've got more to do than me tomorrow, you need a better rest."

He didn't quite catch the man's response, but it sounded like he was refusing the offer. His ears pricked when he heard his name being mentioned, something about sharing the box room floor.

Pretty soon the sitting room cleared, leaving just Carol with him and he took one last look through the gap in the boards covering the bay window before stalking out, leaving her unfolding a blanket onto the worn couch.

He opted for the floor of the hallway as his place to bed down. He preferred to be alone and he liked being near the exit, so he could keep one eye on the door.

Sleep didn't come easy. Then again, it never had, not even as a boy. He drifted in and out, waking at the slightest noise, be it someone coughing in the next room or another burst of heavy rain, thundering against every window and door. The walls were thin and he could hear Carol toss and turn on the sofa that was backed up against the wall, the wall his leg was pressed against, just a few inches of plaster separating them.

She never slept easy, that one. He had noticed. He tried not to. He didn't want to think about her anymore than he thought about the others. He tried to see her as one more ass to save, one more mouth to feed, one more voice to tune out. It didn't always work. He knew that she tossed and turned all night, every night he spent in that tent with her.

His eyes drifted shut as the noise next door quieted and he almost dropping off when the sitting room door clicked open softly and his eyes snapped back open. There was a soft glow of candlelight and Carol stepped out into the hallway, jerking backwards in surprise when she realised her bare foot was about to tread on his ankle.

"Sorry." She murmured and she skirted around him towards the kitchen. He heard the clink of glass and a moment later she returned, padding along the threadbare carpet carefully, softly, clutching her candle and a glass of water. She didn't give him more than a passing glance as she made her way back to the sitting room, just to make sure she didn't fall over him, before she closed the door. It didn't click shut and he propped himself up to see that she had left it open half way.

He shouldn't have been able to see her, if she had returned to her bed for the night. Except she hadn't returned. She had set the candle and glass down on the dusty coffee table and he could just see her shadow lingering at the window, roughly boarded up. She pulled back one of the thick drapes, bending down to peer through a gap in the boards.

"Close the curtains. Don't want anythin' seein' the light." He was striding into room before he realised what he was doing, making Carol jump. He wrenched the curtain from her hand, pulling it shut.

"I think there's one out there." She murmured. "I heard...something." She stepped back from the window, from him, edging towards the couch.

"It's probably just the wind or somethin'. And if it is one, one of 'em ain't a problem. Go t'sleep." Daryl turned around to head back out the room.

"You may as well take the couch, I can't sleep any. You got plenty to do tomorrow." She sighed out and Daryl felt anger rising from nowhere. He hated hearing talk like this. Defeatist talk. Sure, it was just admitting defeat against sleep. But for Carol, this was the start. He'd seen it in others. Giving up, giving in, opting out.

"For fuck's sake, just try." He snapped out in a whisper. "Your pacin' about is drivin' me nuts."

Carol looked up at him, bewildered. She didn't know how he'd gotten angry at her so quickly. "I'm sorry, I'm not _trying _to irritate you." She muttered back, drawing herself up onto the couch, pulling the blanket back around her.

He let out a heavy sigh, foot kicking at the rug under the window. Finally, he moved forward, but instead of heading out the door, he slid to the ground next to the couch, back against the arm rest nearest her feet.

"Yeah, I know. Just try." He told her, folding his arms and tipping his head back so it rested against the couch.

So she did irritate him. She desperately tried not to irritate him. Irritate any of them. She knew her place within the group. And she knew how utterly invaluable it was. In the past, Rick had been her protector. Always strived to include her and Sophia, to watch out for them just like he did Lori and Carl. She was grateful for it. It was reassuring. This world was cold and cruel and the Grimes family were the only saving grace.

But this new Rick was frightening. He was determined and fierce, his own wife feared him now. This new Rick would not protect her. This new Rick insisted on everyone carrying their own weight but Carol simply didn't know how. She was terrified that one day she would get left behind.

"Daryl, take the couch."

"Just shut up an' sleep." He told her. A second later, she leant forward and blew out the candle, letting out a sigh as she pushed back onto the sofa.

TWDTWDTWD

RIck wanted to make the journey to the prison the next day and Daryl agreed to go with him, just to get it over and done with. The journey was quick, the roads quiet. The rain pounded on and Walkers were scattered. The noise clearly threw them off because a lot of them hardly glanced in the direction of the car as they drove on towards Macon state prison.

As the building loomed into the skyline, Daryl instantly knew it was too big. Far too big. Seven large buildings that he could see, some smaller ones dotted about. He could tell by Rick's stance in the passenger seat that he was thinking the same thing.

They drove to the outskirts of the town, to the brow of a hill and Rick pulled out a pair of binoculars to survey the area.

"There's Walkers in the yard. Lots of carcasses though. Like someone's maybe tried taking them out." Rick looked for a little longer before passing the binoculars for Daryl to see him for himself.

"It's too big, Rick. We'd never be able to lock that shit down." He muttered, pulling his gaze away from the prison, instead taking the opportunity to scan the landscape, hoping for something else to catch his eye.

Rick let out an exasperated sigh. "I was so sure that this would be the place."

"Let's take another route back, see if we can scout somethin' else out."

There was a groan and a gasp behind them and the men whirled around at the same time. The Walker was young, a teenager perhaps, with straggly blonde hair and wearing a football jersey. It staggered towards them, moans increasing as it smelt it's meal.

"I got it." Rick stepped forward, withdrawing the knife at his hip, picking up his pace as he neared the creature and he threw his weight into the knife, taking the Walker down with one clean stab, slicing right through it's rotten skull. It stilled immediately, but Rick pulled the knife free and aimed again and again, until there was very little left of the Walker's head to stab. Unleashing pent up frustration and anger that his plans were scuppered so soon.

"Rick! Come on." Daryl jumped into the driver's seat and turned the ignition. A few seconds later Rick jumped into the car and Daryl threw the vehicle into drive, tearing out of there.

They only got half a mile down the road before Daryl pressed his foot on the break and pulled over. There were several cars abandoned along the route, some in better states than others. The truck he'd spotted was a dark blue, dusty and dirty but otherwise, it looked perfect.

"I need that truck." He told Rick, stepping out of the car, pulling out the crossbow from the back seat. Rick followed him out and as Daryl had hoped, the car was unlocked, the keys still in the ignition. He gave it an experimental turn and on the second attempt, the engine roared to life. "Needs diesel." He told the other man, taking a glance at the dial on the dash.

"Only got petrol in the car." Rick told him. "I'll see what's in these." He nodded to the other abandoned vehicles and turned back to their own car, in order to get the things he needed to siphon fuel.

The bed of the truck was covered with canvas and Daryl unlaced it and pulled the gate down to unload the useless things. There wasn't much worth taking. No ammo, not much in the way of food and water, just a few small bottles of soda that probably tasted like crap, a couple of bags of chips and candy, a box of cigarettes that he figured T-Dog might like and a a few packets of gum. Still, he left them in the bed of the truck. He threw out the gym bag filled with soccer balls and nets and the dog bed. There were a couple of coats in the very back of the truck bed, probably remnants of the previous winter, just in case and the baseball bat.

Just as he was dropping the tackle box over the edge of the truck, it occurred to him that something wasn't right. Something was definitely not right. He stood up on the bed and scanned the area, watching as Rick walked from one abandoned car to the next. Daryl watched as Rick bent down at the rear of the car, fiddling with the pipe and funnel. He watched as Rick froze on the spot, head lifting slowly to meet Daryl's gaze and nodding his understanding that he too realised something was amiss.

Daryl jumped over the side of the truck, striding slowly towards Rick, crossbow raised.

"The exhaust is warm." Rick murmured to him, standing slowly, dropping the plastic piping, his hand drifting to his holster for his gun.

It made sense. There were others around here. Daryl could feel eyes watching them. Of course it wouldn't be Walkers. Walkers didn't wait around for the best moment to attack. They didn't think or plan. Walkers would've been the better option to be facing.

"Let's get the fuck outta here." Daryl told him and Rick nodded, both their head swivelling as they backed up to the car. As his hand made to touch the door handle, he thought perhaps his gut was wrong. There may've been people in the area but perhaps they weren't being watched. If it had been him watching, they would never have made it to the car.

"Wait!" The voice was male and had them rooted to the spot. "Wait, don't go. We mean no harm."

_We_? Well, shit, Daryl thought. We could mean anything from 2 to 200. He kept his crossbow raised as he spun around and watched eagle-eyed as the man approached. He was tall, well over six foot and built like a bull dozer. Black skinned and dark curly hair, with hands the size of dustbin lids, Daryl would readily admit this guy could take out both he and Rick with one hand tied behind his back.

But his voice was non-threatening. Daryl trusted his instincts. His instincts told him immediately that this man meant no harm.

"I swear. I just wanna talk to you. It's been awhile since we saw others." He held a gun in his hand, but it was loose in his grip, the barrel pointed at the ground. As the man walked closer, he spotted a second man behind him. White, smaller, a lot smaller, with a blonde ponytail.

He quickly realised they were wearing the same clothes. Dark blue pants, white tshirts and blue button down shirts. Prison issue. Suddenly, shit just got a whole lot scarier.

"You cons?" Daryl waved the crossbow up and down their length.

The big man smiled a little, white teeth showing. "No, I ain't. Just living there. We overheard you, back over at the hill. You looking for somewhere to hole up? We're always recruiting."

Rick and Daryl glanced at one another. Now, he thought, there was an offer that was best considered.

"That so?" Rick stepped forward, gun still aimed at the pair, although his stance was a little more relaxed.

The man nodded eagerly. "My name's Tyreese. There's a few of us there. A few former prisoners, I won't lie to you."

"I was half way through doing a stint for attempted murder." The blonde man said the words so matter of factly, Daryl wanted to let out a laugh. Murderers he could cope with. He would trust murderers over anyone doing time for fraud or robbery.

Tyreese shot the man a look that suggested he should shut his mouth but the blonde man just shrugged. "I'm telling them now so they don't get any nasty surprises later." He explained. "Name's Alex."

"How many of you?" Rick asked. The blonde man tossed his own gun onto the hood of the nearest car, hopping to sit next to it.

"Coupla dozen. We're a mixed bag. Like I said, we overheard you talking. You're right, the prison is too big, we only have certain parts safe. We're always looking for extra pairs of hands. In exchange for safety. We have food, water, weapons."

"We're not alone." Rick told him. Daryl cursed inwardly. He felt it were far too early to give that information away. "We have women. One is pregnant. We have a child."

Tyreese nodded. "We're only men. But we do have a medic. Not a doctor or anything, but the best we have."

"What assurances do we have that this is a genuine offer? No strings attached?" Daryl scoffed openly at that, because honestly? The question was stupid. They had no assurances.

"None. Only my word. You coulda shot us dead without waiting to see what we wanted. You didn't. I figure you need this. I ain't looking to make enemies. Only friends."

Rick nodded, finally lowering his weapon.

"We would need to think this over. Discuss it with our people."

"Certainly? We could meet here again? In a couple of days?" Tyreese offered.

"Midday. No promises that we'll be here." Rick warned him, stepping forward, hand extended to shake Tyreese's.

Tyreese nodded. "That's good enough for me." His large hand met Rick's and the two shook firmly.

Daryl wasn't entirely sure that the prison would be a good decision. But he was pretty sure that several members of their group would consider it the wrong one.


	4. Promise

Author's Notes: Love you long time.

TWDTWDTWD

Tyreese and Alex helped them find the diesel they needed to get the truck on the road. Daryl felt it a little too good to be true. He believed that Tyreese spoke honestly. He trusted his instincts. But they were too eager to make friends. There was something amiss, he just couldn't figure out what.

They pulled up to the farmhouse and the brief spell of dry weather they'd had that day seemed to be coming to an end. The air was heavy, the wind picking up, and Daryl felt sure there would be more thunderstorms tonight. He couldn't remember a fall where it rained so relentlessly.

No-one came to the door when they pulled up, probably keeping warm against the wind. When he came through the door, he was instantly hit with the smell of something spicy. Tomato? He couldn't tell. Carl came rushing to the door as Daryl pushed the bolt over, jabbering to his father about something or another.

"And anyway, dinner's ready." He finally breathed out and Daryl just shook his head at the boy, pushing past to find the source of the food.

The smell got stronger as he strode through the house, passing by the youngest Greene girl who skirted past him, head ducked down, too afraid to catch his eye. Scared of her own shadow, that one was. He pushed the door of the kitchen open, bracing himself for a crowded room but was surprised to find that there was only Carol and Lori.

Carol stood at the old stove, the one he thought they'd never get working, but clearly someone had been busy in his absence. She was stirring a pot, the source of the smell. Lori was sat at the tiny kitchen table, counting out silverware. They both snapped up to look at him, Lori instantly out of her seat.

"Where's Rick?" She asked, dropping the bouquet of forks in her hand onto the table.

Daryl jerked his head towards the hall and Lori was out of the room before he could even step out of the door way.

"Everything go alright?" Carol turned from the stove to watch him as he crossed the room in four steps, reaching for a bottle of water.

He didn't answer her straight away, twisting the cap from a bottle and taking a long pull. She watched him as he leant back against the counter, twisting the cap back on slowly, considering the question. Obviously it hadn't gone badly, because both he and Rick were back unharmed. That was always the priority.

"Rick will wanna tell y'all together, I'm sure." He answered finally, setting the bow down in the corner of the room. "You ain't gonna like it."

She raised an eyebrow at that, one hand going to her hip, wordlessly telling him of her displeasure at his answer. But it was true, he didn't think she was going to like it and he wouldn't blame her in the least. Going to a prison, with a bunch of cons when she couldn't defend herself? He could take care of his own ass and even he didn't like it.

She gazed at it him for a moment, probably wondering if she was going to get any more out of him. But he didn't intend on saying another word. Rick wanted to take control, let him do the dirty work. And he figured Carol wouldn't be the only one to have an issue with going to the prison. Lori definitely would, the whole Greene family too, most likely. She turned back to her cooking, giving the pots one final stir.

"Carl!" She called out into the hallway and a few seconds later, the boy scurried in. "Can you go tell everyone I'm about to dish up and to come get it please?"

Carl nodded and Carol lifted the pot of rice from the stove, brushing Daryl aside to get to the sink. In less than a minute, the hungry horde had descended on the tiny room and Carol hastily began dishing out heaping plates of rice with a tomato sauce. She pushed one Daryl's way first and he made a quick escape, ploughing through them all to get to the sitting room.

They hadn't all even sat down before the first of the questions filled the air. Carol didn't even want to hear it. If Daryl said she was wasn't going to like what she heard, then she would be quite happy to delay the inevitable.

"Let's just eat shall we? We can talk it out afterwards." Rick waved his fork around as he spoke.

"Come on, Rick, just spill it. Is the prison an option or not?" It was Maggie who spoke out, pushing her plate aside to hear his answer.

Rick sighed, swallowing his mouthful slowly, fork clinking against the plate as he dropped it. His hand came to his face, rubbing over his jaw as he chose his words.

"We went to the prison. There were Walkers. Plenty of them. It's a bigger building than I thought it might be. But..." He sighed once again. "We met two men. Living men. The prison is their home."

The silence in the room came to an abrupt end at Rick's words, questions forming on everyone's lips.

Two men. One a prisoner, one claiming not to be. Offering a space on their home. All they wanted in return was help protecting the prison. More manpower. It seemed to good to be true. Rick spoke as though this place would be their salvation. A new place to rebuild. To forge new alliances.

Carol did not miss the way that for all Rick's talk, Daryl did not say a word. He sat back, focused on eating his meal, occasionally glancing up when someone said something that piqued his interest. How did they know that this man, this Tyreese, wasn't a criminal? Or that any of them weren't? Or that they weren't murders or rapists?

And then a thought occurred to her. "Rick." She cleared her throat and the rest of the room stilled. Probably because they were as surprised as she was that she had spoken up. The first time since they left the Greene farm. She hoped that this time would not go as badly as the last. "Macon State is high security prison." She remembered something about that. She was sure that her former next door neighbour used to complain about having to travel there after her son was convicted of rape. "Where they send those who commit serious crimes. There aren't many tax dodgers and thieves. Chances are, you've probably arrested men who've wound up there."

She paused there, wondering if Rick got the meaning of her words. She looked from him to Daryl and he had paused, fork midway to his mouth, gazing at her. He got it instantly, she knew.

"Criminals don't like the police. Do you think that'll have changed?" She resumed her eating, letting the others process this new bit of information.

"I...I hadn't considered that possibility. Obviously, we'd have to be clear that that particular bit of information remained within our group. Until we are certain that everyone can be trusted."

She nodded then, content with having said her piece, however small. To her, the prison sounded like an awful idea. Mixing with people who couldn't be trusted was a risky idea before the Walkers, now it was just plain moronic. But Rick was determined, he fought his corner valiantly and even though noone seemed inclined to give up the conversation anytime soon, she could see Rick getting his way on the matter.

Hershel would support whatever Rick said. So with Hershel, came Beth and even though it might be reluctantly, Maggie would go too. Glenn would follow, absolutely no question. T-Dog she couldn't be sure about. He hadn't said much, but Lori had told her that when they left the farm, he was hell bent on heading to the coast.

Lori put up the biggest fight. Understandably. She had a child to protect. Carol couldn't even begin to conjure a picture of a few months time, when Lori would give birth. In a prison cell. Life was cruel.

"And you?" Carol was broken from her reverie by the question that was thrown in her direction. "What do you think?"

Carol shrugged. "I agree with Lori." She muttered, looking away from Rick, who was shooting her a disappointed look. "But...I will of course, go wherever you feel is best." She sighed, standing and clearing some of the empty plates. "I'm not going to argue." Those words felt like stones in her heart. Giving up her right to choose. The only way she was going to survive.

Rick nodded his understanding and she carried the plates to the kitchen to begin the washing up. She took her time with the chore, calling Carl to help her, trying to pretend that she couldn't hear what was going on in the other room.

"I think a prison would be cool. Like, we could lock the Walkers in cells and stuff. And they got those towers, where they watch the prisoners, we could like shoot them, from up there." He spoke enthusiastically, like only a child could and Carol was starkly reminded of how much this boy had to deal with, despite his tender years.

Carl was adept with a gun, far better than she would ever be, than Lori could be. His aim was impeccable, even Daryl had made murmurs of appreciation only the other day, when Walkers stumbled upon them. He'd taken three out with a single head shot to each, standing on the bonnet of the car, pulling from his mother's arms to do so.

"Maybe, Carl. But as you know, we have to go on with a mind to watch our backs. Nowhere is a guarantee of safety, not yet." She spoke easily, trying to hide her upset at how easy it was for Carl to say such things.

"I know, I know, still, it would be cool. And they have those shields and stuff, for when they have riots. That could stop people getting scratched." Carol smiled blandly and ruffled his hair, passing him the last of the plates to dry.

By the time she had completed the task, prolonging it for as long as possible, the group began to scatter, Lori coming to find Carl and send him to bed.

"So, I think we're going." The pregnant woman sighed out, a hand unconsciously going to her stomach.

Carol nodded, swallowing thickly. "We're going to be fine." She put her hand on Lori's shoulder. "We will."

Lori nodded, nudging Carl towards the door. They both glanced at the window before she left, where the rain was pounding down heavily again, hammering against the glass.

The sitting room was empty when she returned to it and she set to unfolding her blankets. As she kicked off her shoes, the door opened and Daryl walked in. He didn't say anything, just setting his weapons down on the coffee table, propping his crossbow along the wall underneath the window, taking a final peek through the gap in the boards before pulling the drapes shut.

It was still early, but then, they all seemed to go to sleep straight after dinner now, to make sure they rose at first light. Still, she wasn't quite ready for sleep. She sat on one side of the couch, drawing her feet up, hands wrapping around her knees.

"What do you think?" She spoke out finally, as he settled himself on the floor, parallel to the couch, between her and the coffee table. His arms were tucked under his head and he didn't say anything for a moment, didn't acknowledge the question at all and she found herself wondering if she had forgotten to speak the words out loud.

"Don't think there is anythin' else better waitin' for us." He said finally, turning his head to look at her.

"That...that doesn't mean _anything_." She bit out, frustrated. "Those people, I'm scared that-" Daryl cut her off with a scoff.

"When _aren't_ ya scared?" He huffed out.

She shot him a glare, unfurling herself to lie down on her side, looking over him from the edge of the sofa.

"Walkers aren't scary anymore, Daryl. They're awful but, I've gotten used to that. They're predictable. People, not so much. I would rather die in the jaws of a Walker than in the hands of one of those people, like those people in Randall's group. I know what that can be like and I can't go there again." She sighed softly, tugging the blanket up to her chest.

"It ain't gonna happen like that. Noone's gonna let it go down that way." He told her resolutely.

Despite the firmness of his words, Carol wasn't so sure.

TWDTWDTWD

Despite the majority of group being satisfied with the decision on going to the prison, it didn't stop nearly every one of them dragging their heels when it was time to go. Daryl and Carol were the first ones up and Carol set to work straight away on packing their food and other supplies.

Eventually the Grimes family got up and Daryl lead Rick away to hammer out the final details of the meet up. When the cars had all be loaded up and there was nothing left to do, she clambered into the passenger side of Daryl's truck without waiting for his permission that it would be alright to do so.

He didn't do more than spare a glance at her as he stepped up into the truck and turned the key in the ignition. Truthfully, it was probably better. He'd discussed the potential of dangerous inmates giving them trouble, particularly the women. It was Rick's idea to make sure each woman was accompanied by a man, to never look like she was alone in any way. It was his idea to arm everyone. He'd been kind of hoping that Rick would be the one to explain that though, especially considering how worried she was the night before. He couldn't handle women, especially when it came to shit like this.

"Here." He almost threw the knife at her, a bolo that he'd acquired the week before. It was sheathed and she grasped it in trembling fingers. "Don't cry 'bout it, a'right? Just put it on ya belt. Ain't tellin' ya to use it or some shit, but they-" He waved his hand out in the direction of the prison as he drove. "-don't need to know you ain't used it before. Don't let 'em spot a weakness."

"It'll be painfully obvious that I don't know to use this." She told him, turning the knife in her hand.

"Look, it's all 'bout how you act." His hips lifted off the seat and he rummaged in his pocket for the switchblade he'd found in the truck the day before, pushing it into her hands. "Take that one too."

He turned to look at her when she didn't say anything and his heart jumped when he could see her jaw trembling, eyes glistening, hands shaking. The last thing he wanted to deal with was crying. He could feel himself getting irritated and he tried to lock it down. They didn't need an argument now, for anyone to see anything but a united front.

"Just put the knife on. It ain't gonna come to that, it's just bein' prepared, right?" He told her resolutely. Eventually, she nodded and tucked the flick knife into her jean pocket and began unbuckling her belt to thread on the bolo knife in it's sheath.

Tyreese was there before them. Alex, the blonde ponytail guy was absent but there were two other men sitting on the hood of the van, another big guy, white, grizzly looking. He reminded Daryl of bikers that used to prop up the bar back home. The other guy was smaller, younger, maybe not even thirty, tan with wild curly hair and he gripped the butt of his rifle so hard his knuckles had turned white. He was clearly as nervous as they were.

"Hey, good to see you." Tyreese held out his hand to shake Rick's, both he and Daryl had gotten out from the cars to see the man and once again his demeanour was easy and friendly. "We all set to go?"

Rick nodded. "Is there anything we need to know? Before we make the jump?"

Tyreese paused for a moment. "Everyone knows you're coming. Not everyone is entirely happy about it. I don't anticipate trouble. But I would suggest that everyone stick together for now." He stopped again, clearly wondering how to express his next thought. "A few of these guys, they've been in that place for a long time. Some will be up front as to why." He gestured behind him. "Axel has been inside for almost twenty years for armed robbery."

The older guy nodded and gave a salute. Daryl had the same feeling of honesty in this guy as he did Tyreese, even though he hadn't said a word. Tyreese clearly knew how to pick his men.

"Connor had been coming to the end of three year sentence for assault." Connor nodded too, albeit far more reluctantly. "These are men I trust. There are more of them, back there. But some won't tell you why they ended up there. We have no way of finding out. It's been a long time since they've seen women. I don't mean to worry anyone, it might be completely unfounded, just...keep them close for now."

"And if there are problems?" Rick pressed. Daryl did not doubt there would be.

"It'll be dealt with. We have no tolerance for any poor behaviour against any member of the living. You have my word on that."

Rick considered the words for a moment. "Let's go."

"Follow the van around. We radio in on our approach and somebody will distract the Deadheads. There will be strays to take out, don't use guns, there's only a small window of time to get into the building. Just follow our lead." Tyreese directed them, patting the black radio attached to his belt.

Rick and Tyreese shook hands once again and Carol didn't stop watching the men even as they parted and Daryl came back to the truck, opening her passenger door.

"You need to drive." He told her and she clambered over the gearbox to get into the seat. "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be." She replied, turning the key in the ignition.


	5. Duty

Author's Notes: Thank you everyone. Love you like Charlie Sheen loves Winning. Join me on Twitter under SepticLovebite where I can pester you by oversharing my personal life.

TWDTWDTWD

The prison loomed over them as the convoy slowly made their way down the hill and Carol tried to keep her hands steady on the wheel as she followed behind Rick's car. The walls towered over them, barbed wire running across the top. As they made their approach, the roaming Walkers came into view and she pushed back the instinct to throw the truck into reverse and get the hell out of there.

Daryl's eyes were everywhere, looking from the truck at all angles and his gaze fell to one of the high walls. There was a man, wearing some of the same prison clothing as the others, running across some sort of walkway on the top of the outer wall, away from them. He had something that crackled and sparked in his hand. It looked like sparklers to Carol, the kind you got on Independence day and the Walkers instantly lurched over to him, hands scrabbling pointlessly at the wall trying to get him.

The convoy moved on once the majority of the Walkers were distracted and she spotted the man she thought was Tyreese climb from the van as it rolled through the yard, knife in hand and he took a straggling Walker out before the door even slammed shut.

Daryl opened his door and her foot touched the brake without her thinking about it.

"Where are you going?" She cried, absolutely terrified of being left alone in the truck.

"Provin' our worth. Follow Rick. I'll be back t'get ya inside." He slammed the door shut and she watched as he threw his weight into his blade, landing straight into the forehead of the Walker in front of him.

It seemed to take forever, when the reality was that it took less than two minutes. The other men in the van pulled up and jumped out, gesturing to a door up ahead and she spotted Rick unloading his family, gathering up their bags.

She gathered up what was in the cab, a large duffel bag, slinging it over her back. Daryl's saddlebag was on the floor and she yanked the strap over her shoulder before grabbing her own small satchel, filled only with clothes. Before her hand fell on the handle of the door, it was yanked open for her and Daryl was there, chivvying her out of the truck.

His hands were in the bed of the truck, he pulled out two more duffel bags and tugged both of them on. Finally he picked up his crossbow, already loaded with an arrow and he waved her onward, right behind Lori as they made their way through the dark doorway.

Eventually, they had all piled through the doorway and Tyreese came behind them, his hulking form blocking out the light from outside. The door slammed shut and Carol could hear the scraping of metal on metal as bolts and chains were slid into place.

"Come on Connor, flashlights man." He rumbled irritably and a second later two beams of light blinded them, sending hands to cover faces. "Connor, seriously."

"Sorry, sorry." The other man muttered and then the lights were turned down the passage way, two of the men leading them into the depth of the prison.

"The reason that the majority of the prison is still crawling with Deadheads is because most of the doors need power to work." Tyreese explained to them as he lead them through the winding corridors. It made Carol unbearably nervous. The path was utterly black, illuminated only by the flashlights up ahead. There were too many of them and Carol found herself cowering into Daryl's side as they walked in step together, like sardines in a tin can, shuffling along. "I'll have to show you exactly why it's been so difficult another time. We'll get you introduced to everyone first, then we'll show you where you can bunk up."

There were several stops along the way, more doors that needed unbolting and unlocking, each one leading into more darkness. Carol fought back the urge to panic. The tightly packed bodies were making her feel sick. This was a bad idea, she could feel it. It must have been some sort of trap. There was another lurch to a stop for the two men at the front set to lifting the barricade from the sixth door and she bumped into Lori.

"Sorry." She mumbled under her breath, readjusting the slipped strap of her bag.

"You ok?" Lori breathed the words into her ear, hand reaching out to squeeze Carol's shaking hand in the darkness.

"Yes." She finally managed to utter, the word sounding more like a sigh.

There was a creak and the door swung forward, light streaming through making her eyes sting. It was a cafeteria. Huge. Able to seat hundreds of people. Alot of the tables were stacked up against the walls, dusty with lack of use. There were a few left in the centre. There were a few men scattered about them, all dressed similarly in denim and blue shirts, the odd piece of non-prison issue clothing thrown in. The light came from windows that were so high up, they were almost at the ceiling, covered with metal bars even though there was no way any man could reach them.

All eyes turned to them at the Tyreese urged them on, faces that looked nervous, some curious, others that were openly hostile. Daryl did not miss the eyes of more than one of them. The eyes of men who looked at the woman next to him like she was a lake in a desert. He instantly took a dislike to them and vowed to tell Rick exactly what his thoughts on them the moment they were alone. For now, he settled at glaring at one of them, the one he deemed the most threatening, a guy that looked to be mid fifties, grey hair tied back into a ponytail, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal an awful lot of tattoos, the kind that only got done in prison cells. The man didn't even have the decency to look away and Daryl felt his blood boil.

He barely tuned in to the stilted exchange of names as Tyreese introduced the men to them, Rick taking his turn to introduce their far smaller group. A quick headcount told him there were 21 men in the room, including the ones that brought them here and there were probably a few more about somewhere else. Some were armed, a lot weren't, which was some what reassuring, but it also meant that the men didn't believe Walkers could get in easily. Which meant that getting out in a hurry would probably be difficult. Three doors were open, the rolling grate that separated the kitchen from the eating area was lifted up, showing off stainless steel worktops everywhere.

He snapped to when he realised that other voices were joining in the conversation, discussing matters like watch duty and cooking facilities.

"We'd be quite happy to make dinner for you all tonight, if you'd like?" Carol spoke, taking a step towards Tyreese who positively beamed at her words. He didn't know where that moment of boldness came from and he wanted to pull her back and shield her from view. Didn't she understand that some of these men could be capable of truly terrible things? Things that were far worse than death for her. She shouldn't let herself stand out.

"We would be very grateful, ma'am. We have men with plenty of skills but there ain't one of us here who can cook worth a damn." He told her and several of the men behind him nodded in agreement. "Let's get you folk settled with some rooms and then we'll give y'all a tour of the kitchen and the rest of the old place."

Tyreese lead them out another door and up a metal staircase. All heavy doors, the kind that needed to be opened via a keypad were not quite shut, the locks bouncing against the frames, some were propped open with makeshift doorjams. He stopped at the first floor, waving towards another door.

"Half the cells are here, it's where we all sleep. Each floor can house fifty, in double cells. But I figure, it might be best to put you guys on the next floor up, give y'all some space whilst people get used to you." He lead them up another set of stairs and stepped back to let them all through. He turned to look behind him, taking a glance over the railings to make sure he wasn't being followed. "Just remember what I said, before, 'bout the ladies." He nodded to Daryl and Rick, voice low. "Doors don't close properly, but there's chairs about, you can prop them under the handle to hold them shut for privacy and whatnot. There may be a few old personal effects left behind, we've cleaned them of anything useful, but anything that's in the way, just stick in an empty room. I'll let you guys settle yourselves in and come check on you in a while."

He tipped his head towards them, his grin spreading, showing off his pearly whites that beamed in contrast against his dark skin and they listened as his boots pounded down the metal staircase.

"Alright." Rick rubbed his hands together. "No woman sleeps alone for now. And let's all stick to cells next to each other, just until we know it's all going fine here."

Carl was the first to wander off, dragging his mother behind him, choosing a cell right in the middle. Eventually others followed and people started dragging mattresses from cell to cell, gathering up blankets and pillows.

Daryl shifted from foot to foot, waiting for Carol to make the first move into a cell. He knew it would have to be him that would share with her. The only options were him or T-Dog. But it was him that shared the tent with her, slept next to her on the couch. It was him that gave her the knives. He set himself up for this. It was his duty now.

She must have heard Rick's words, but she didn't ask who would be with her, eventually dragging the bags in her hands towards the nearest cell, one next to Glenn and Maggie. He followed her in and she jumped as he pulled one of the duffels from his back, dropping it on the cement floor with a thud. She raised an eyebrow at him as he stepped further into the room, leaning against the barred window to take a look at the view outside. Walkers, Walkers everywhere.

"You gotta have someone with ya, you heard Rick." He told her tetchily, irritated at her questioning silence.

"You don't have to do it. I can ask T-Dog if you'd prefer." Her tone was light, appeasing, as she turned around to rifle through one of the bags.

"It's fine." He groused, taking off the other bag, dropping his crossbow. He didn't even know why he was being so irritable.

"Fine. Which bed would you prefer?" Turned out she didn't appreciate his tone either, her own words becoming clipped.

He tossed his crossbow down on the one nearest the door in response and she just sighed, dropping her bag down and pulling a handful of clothes from her backpack.

"Don't get too at home here yet." He warned her as she began unfolding her meagre wardrobe. He only hunted out his weapons. His knives were in a roll and he began to pick out which ones he was going to thread onto his belt or stash on his person.

She tutted under her breath. "Don't worry about me and my clothes, alright?" She hated that he behaved so resentfully to her. He chose to come here as much as Rick did. He chose to sleep in the same cell and she didn't ask for any of it.

She took her time in draping her clothes over a piece of string that was already hanging in the room, Daryl was back and forth, she could overhear him speaking to Rick down the corridor. His bag was open on the bed and she took the liberty of pulling some of his clothes from the top to drape alongside hers.

She'd never been inside a prison before, not even the visitor's area. It was awful. Drab grey walls, grey floors and bars everywhere. The beds were small, although she was grateful for a bed at this point. It was chilly but hopefully combined with the blankets already there and the ones they'd scavenged on their travels, they'd be alright.

Dinner was awkward. Carol could feel eyes watching her and the other women's every move as they worked, trying to familarise themselves with such a large workspace. There were gas cannisters operating the stove, but a lot of the food in their cupboards were unfamiliar and she and Lori struggled to come up with a meal that would suit them all.

It didn't help that Glenn and Hershel were hovering over them, gun at their sides, pacing around as they worked. When they dished out, men came to the grille divide, taking plates with murmured thanks but with little else to say to them.

By the time they'd eaten up and proceeded to wash up she was glad to get out of there. They all trooped up to their second floor of cells, grateful that the first day was over, with little to worry about. So far.

It was Daryl's idea to continue with a watch, just on their floor. To make sure they weren't ambushed in their beds. He took the first, like he usually did, leaving her alone, making the room feel even colder. She was sure if she stood in between their beds, she would be able to touch either wall with her arms outstretched.

Sleep did not come. There were noises on the floor below, despite the odd hour, deep rumbles of laughter, the odd thumping sound, occasionally one voice telling another to shut up. When Daryl came to bed, several hours later, she still hadn't drifted off. He kept his torch directed away from her, moving silently, pushing bags aside to get to his bed. He didn't bother with even taking his boots off, just throwing himself down on the thin mattress, pulling his weapons off to sit on the bedside cabinet that separated them.

She managed to doze off then, if only lightly, waking up several times and suddenly finding herself with the urge to go pee. She slid out of the bed carefully, silently, slipping on her boots and taking his flashlight to find her way down the corridor. Rick was on watch when she stepped out of the cell, right at the top, by the entrance to the floor and he gave her a nod when he saw the light.

She was lost in thought as she picked up the flashlight and made her way out of the bathroom, taking the time to retrace her steps properly so she didn't end up somewhere she didn't want to be. From the corridor, she could faintly hear moaning sounds. The sounds that only Walkers made and it was completely unsettling. They never, ever stayed so close to the undead.

Carol didn't notice him as he crept through the darkness seeking her out. Completely in a world of her own, his hand reached out and grabbed her firmly at her elbow. She let out a squeak and then a sigh of relief when she realised who it was.

"What are you doing?" She hissed angrily, smacking him on the arm, trying to wrench her arm free.

"Lookin' for you!" He snorted, dragging her back towards the cell, not loosening his grip on her arm. "You can't just go on ya own like that!" He tried to keep his temper in check, his voice low, but she was making it increasingly difficult.

"I went to the bathroom! Rick saw me!" She whispered back angrily, still trying to yank her arm back. His pace was fast, furious and she almost had to break into a run to keep up with him. He pushed her into the cell, finally leaving go of her arm and she rubbed the spot where his fingertips dug into her skin, sure he would leave bruises.

"You don't get it do you?" He muttered to her, turning away to prop a chair under the door handle, forcing it closed. "Those people, I can tell ya, that some of them, they are just _dying _for ya to wander off by yourself. And like that no less!" He spun around, waving an arm down towards her legs.

Carol looked down at herself. She had pajama shorts on, nothing particulary provocative, so she thought and her heavy sweater. She had no choice, everything was drying out. But for Daryl to think she looked like she was...well what? Inviting herself to be attacked with a pair of shorts that almost touched her mottled knees?

"You are being ridiculous." She muttered, embarrassed at being chasitised in such a way.

"It ain't. I've done time, Carol, I know how it works round these places." She raised an eyebrow at that. She knew Merle had been in prison, he'd never hidden the fact back at the quarry in Atlanta, but she was a little surprised that Daryl had too.

"You ever been here?" She whispered, kicking off her boots and clambering back into her bed.

"Naw. Back up north of the state. It was years ago. Boostin' cars." He told her, his voice relaxing now and he switched the light off and she heard him settle into bed.

"What was is like?" She asked. She let out a yawn, wondering why she now suddenly felt tired, after hours of tossing and turning.

"Shitty enough to stop me from goin' there again." She heard him roll onto his side, ending the conversation.

She found it ironic that he was warning of the dangers of these inmates when he was a criminal himself. Not that she minded at all, if anything it made her feel just that little bit safer to share her cell with him.

She pulled the blankets around her tighter and forced herself to sleep.


	6. Brave

Author's Notes: Thank you for taking the time to read and review. So, having now seen the trailer for Season 3 (OHMAIFUCKINGGAWD) this now reaching into AU territory. Going to try and get it as close to canon as I can get.

TWDTWDTWD

Carol felt like they were waiting to be ambushed. The entire group walked around as if the ground were made of eggshells. They'd been here three days and things sometime felt as tense as if it were the first night. She saw how Daryl and Rick were always off whispering to each other, occasionally involving T-Dog and Glenn too. They were hiding some concerns about the place and it worried her.

But most of the inmates hardly said a word to them. To her anyway. She and the other women had taken over the cooking, as she expected and there were no complaints. In fact, the only things people _ever_ said to her were about food. Everyday somebody would come up to her requesting certain meals and she always gave her best smile and promised to try.

Some were a little chattier, Axel could usually be counted on for conversation every afternoon, he just seemed happy for any sort of company. Connor was becoming more friendly too, often sitting at "their" table for meals, pulling out his pack of cards and challenging someone to a game. There were others, Simon, the paramedic that had come to the prison with Tyreese, his son Riley, who wasn't much older than eighteen and Carol could see his glances lingering on Beth. There were others too, slowly becoming more accustomed to their presence and if it weren't for Daryl and Rick making her nervous, she felt like it was going well.

There were some people that gave her the creeps. There was an older guy with a grey ponytail that stared at her and the other women like they were slabs of meat, never looking away even when he was caught. By the third day, she honestly thought there would be a full scale riot between the two groups because of him.

"Hey, I need a word with you." Rick strode right up to the man, she thought his name was Keith, but she wasn't certain. Rick had his hand on his pistol, chest puffed out and Daryl was right behind his left shoulder, looking like he was ready to explode.

Keith only looked up at them from his seat at the table, flipping through a book.

"You keep away from the women. All of them. No-one is appreciating the way you look at them, least of all me."

Keith looked up then and Carol could see the grin on his face all the way from her spot across the hall, where she sat at a table rolling dough with Beth and Lori.

"You ain't seen nothin'. Now back up, before I start gettin' angry." He told them, his voice still oddly pleasant in contrast to the harshness of his words. He turned away from them, eyes going back to his book.

"Hey!" Daryl had his crossbow in one hand and he used it to lean forward and tap the other man on the shoulder. "You better listen 'fore we start gettin' our wires crossed."

Keith flinched at the touch, instantly pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. The room seemed to fall silent, men in all directions freezing, watching to see what played out.

"You confused? You ain't seen shit. Now beat it." He told them, all pleasantness instantly gone.

"Those women, they aren't interested. They're spoken for." Rick told him, voice unwaivering.

"All of them." Daryl snarled. He'd stepped in front of Rick, almost nose to nose with the older man. "We see anymore of it, then we gonna have real problems."

Carol honestly believed that the man in front of them was going to completely lash out, she dropped the dough onto the table, standing up and the other women followed her lead. She didn't know what she expected to do. Intervene? Leave and hide?

"What's going on here?" Axel came into the room then, dropping his backpack onto the ground. He strode right up to the men, pushing his way between them. No-one answered and there was a creak of the door again and Tyreese was there, surveying the situation. It didn't take him long to know what happened.

"Keith, you need to make yourself scarce, man." He ordered and Carol felt herself sigh with relief. It seemed everyone deferred to Tyreese without hesitation and Carol could see why. The man was huge, he towered over everyone, both in height and width. His voice was so deep that it seemed to rumble through the room, echoing off all the metal surfaces. He never seemed to raise his voice or lose his cool. It seemed that he was genuinely well liked by all of them.

"I didn't do shit, Tyreese. You wanna have a word with these hicks, seems like they're set on stirrin' up some trouble in your camp." Keith spat out, but he backed up anyway, kicking his chair aside.

Tyreese clicked his tongue and shook his head wearily, like he had heard it all before.

"Just go." He nodded his head to the cells upstairs. Keith let out a snort, throwing the book viciously across the table before striding away, taking care to knock Daryl none too gently across the shoulder on his way. Daryl instantly made to go for him, but Rick laid a hand on his shoulder, tugging him back to the rest of the men.

"He has got to be put in line, Tyreese. His salivating is making my wife and the other women scared to move. I don't want to have to be having men follow their every move to watch out for them, it defeats the purpose of us coming here."

"I know. It'll be dealt with. He won't harm them." Tyreese promised, hands lifted in gesture that suggested he was surrendering.

Carol's gaze broke from the little group across the way and looked to the other men scattered about. She wondered who else would've intervened if there had been a fight of some sort. Not many. There were Tyreese's trusted men, they'd been pointed out to her. Not more than half a dozen but they wouldn't harm her or the others, she were sure of it. The rest were the type who would sit by and watch. Then there were an even smaller group of them who would fight with Keith.

He was not the only man who looked at her in a way that made her skin crawl. There were others, they were only marginally less obvious about it. She had previously thought that they were just _looking _and she could handle that, as uncomfortable as she was with it, but for Daryl and Rick to approach Keith, clearly they thought there would be more to it than just looking.

She sat back down slowly, she could see the aggression withdrawing from Daryl's stance and resumed the kneading of her dough. His gaze flickered over her and he gave her the smallest of nods before turning back to Tyreese, who had changed the subject to something else.

TWDTWDTWD

"There a reason why you ain't gone an' tried to get the riot gear?" Daryl and Rick followed Tyreese and Simon down the dark corridors of the second floor, heading towards an empty administrative office.

"Yeah. A couple hundred of 'em." Tyreese pushed open the door and gestured out to the window in front of them. He pointed to a building across the rear yard, connected to another larger building that was adjacent to the one they stood in. Between the building that housed the weapons they could desperately use was literally hundreds of Walkers, all wearing the prison issued jumpsuits.

"There isn't any other access points?" Rick asked, a little desperation tinging his voice.

"Nope. We tried going through C Block and then down the corridor, but it's filled with 'em." Simon, gestured around, showing the route they tried to take. "It's pitch black. We lost two men trying."

"And now...no-one will volunteer to try again. Only us and a couple of others. We wanted to try crossin' the yard. Can't get a vehicle in, it's all walled off, it'd have to be on foot. Need some sort of distraction, then a team to cross the yard. I don't think that door will come off. It's locked. Axel tells me that inmates have tried during riots here, a few years ago and nothing shifted it. But there's a window, round that corner."

That didn't make sense to Daryl. If they put a block that stored weapons right on the edge of a prison yard, with an impenetrable door, why would there be a window?

"But it's not as easy as that right?" Tyreese didn't answer Rick's question, walking over to the desk across the room and handing him a pair of binoculars. Rick stared through them a moment before passing them over to Daryl.

The window was tiny, he didn't think a single man in the prison could get through there. A woman, maybe. Covered in metal bars, the kind that would need a saw to get through. And the cherry on top was definitely the fact that it was at least ten foot off the ground.

"You're gonna need enough men to distract the Walkers plus a decent amount of men to actually get to the window, pick off the strays." Rick told them, hand going to his face wearily.

"I know. I have the saw already. It's keepin' them distracted long enough to do the work. Like I said before, ain't many men here I trust with my life. Even if I had enough to make the run across the yard, I don't hold up much hope for some of those guys keeping the dead away long enough to get the goods." Tyreese paused, clearly considering his next words. "And, I don't know if havin' too many weapons is a good idea. What we have now is what each man obtained hisself."

"You're too soft." Daryl grunted, tossing the binoculars onto the table. "If they wanna stay here, ya oughta make each man do their bit." Rick shot Daryl a look that suggested he should shut up but Daryl ignored him, leaning back to sit on the desk.

"I ain't wantin' to be their leader. It just ended up this way. And I ain't interested in forcin' them to do somethin' they don't wanna. They'd only do a half assed job that way." Tyreese explained. "I don't wanna piss anyone off. You saw Keith earlier. There are men here who would support him if push came to shove. Ain't no time for a riot."

"We can discuss who needs to put more effort in later." Simon interjected. "Would you be in?"

Rick looked to Daryl and they shared the understanding without any words.

"Yeah." Rick nodded. "So, who have you got?"

"Me and Simon. Connor. Alex'll do it." Tyreese counted the names off on his fingers.

"My boy, Riley. He's good for it. Swifty will come. Maybe Leon. Not too sure on him." Simon added. "Gotta keep Axel here, just in case. Keeps them calm, he's been here longer than any of them, they all like him. What about you?"

"Us. Glenn. T-Dog, Maggie too, I expect."

"We need to keep someone back to look after the women." Daryl reminded him. "I dunno if Hershel would be up to it."

"We'd need one to fit through the window. Gotta be a woman I think, not even your Glenn would fit."

"Trouble is, with only eleven people, we need all hands on weapons. Already gonna need someone to boost whoever it is up, to get the bars off..." All four men fell silent as they pondered their situation.

"Well, what about your Carol?" Daryl wondered if it was just his imagination or whether Tyreese really had looked at him like he was asking for his permission.

"No." He said instantly. He sucked in his breath at that, folding his arms over his chest.

"Now, hold up, Daryl." Rick said. "That's not an entirely ridiculous idea."

"Are you crazy?" The breath he'd been holding burst out angrily. "She can't hold her own at the best of times! There ain't time to watch her back too."

"We couldn't afford to have Maggie up there instead, she knows how to hold her own. Carol could do it, you know she could, Daryl. She's just gotta have the chance." Rick reasoned.

"She won't_ wanna _do it, Rick."

Tyreese watched the men hash it out with interest, eyes darting back and forth.

"Why don't you just ask her?" He said eventually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Fine. I'll ask her." Daryl's eyes flashed with anger and he picked up his crossbow and made to storm off out of the room.

"Hold up, Daryl." Rick caught him by the arm and held tight as Daryl attempted to shrug it off. "Don't go in there charging. Let's talk the idea through with the others who are interested in helping, maybe we'll have more volunteers from the guys and we could spare Maggie for the window."

Daryl nodded sharply. But no matter what happened, Carol would be asked and she would say yes. And the thought made him feel sick.

TWDTWDTWD

Carol watched the debate rage on at the table as she dished up dinner with the other women. There was a plan, to try and get some of the weapons locked away in the prison. It sounded insane. She'd seen the yard they needed to cross from her cell window and there were easily over a hundred Walkers. Most of the inmates completely refused, reflecting her own opinion on the matter.

There were a few who would participate, but there seemed to be a thousand different ways they could go about it and no man's version matched another's. In the end, they all agreed to sleep on it and continue the discussion the next day, hoping to finally agree on something.

Daryl was back to taking first watch on the floor and they were the last two heading up the stairs. He caught her wrist just as her foot touched the top step and she looked down at him curiously.

"Need to talk t'you." He grunted, before letting go of her.

Carol turned back to look at the retreating back of the others, before facing him again. It was almost dark, she could barely make out his features.

"Alright, let me just go grab a flashlight." She wondered what on earth he would possibly have to speak to her about, especially without the others, but she was willing to comply, dragging a blanket from her bed and wrapping it around herself to fight off the chill that always seemed to linger in the prison. She flicked the flashlight on as she meandered back up to him.

He was sitting up against the wall, his hands resting on his knees and she slid down the wall to sit beside him. He didn't seem all that inclined to say anything, just pulling the light from her hand and setting it down on the ground.

"This plan...for gettin' the riot gear and guns. Need as many able bodies as we can." He told her, words seeming to take forever to spit out. "Gonna need someone smaller, to fit through the window. The only other one is Maggie, 'cept we're low on manpower. Gonna need her to pick off Walkers."

It took her a minute to realise what he had trying to say. He wanted her to help them. The thought made her heart beat so hard she swore she could hear it in her ears. She didn't say anything as he looked at her for a response.

"You think you could manage it?" He asked finally.

"I would try." She finally managed to whisper.

"Don't just say that 'cause you think that's what I wanna hear. Want ya to do it 'cause you think you can." He told firmly, pulling forward from the wall to look her her properly.

"I'm not just saying it. I'm saying I would give it my best shot. You know I don't know how to use knives and guns. I might just make things worse."

"I'd have your back. Once you were in the room, you'd be safe anyway, ain't nothin' gettin' in. And I was thinkin'...there's gonna be guns and shit in there, could get 'round to showin' you how to use 'em. Time you got a handle on it."

Her head snapped up at that and she looked him straight in the eye. His gaze held hers without blinking and she wondered why he was offering such a thing. Daryl had flat out refused to show anyone anything in the past.

"Shane tried to show me, back at the farm." She shook her head at the memory. Not one she wanted to remember, she couldn't even hold the damn thing right, let along come anywhere close to hitting the target.

"Shane was an ass." He told her with a snort. "I can teach you. Got a watch tower an' everythin', can use it for target practice."

"Alright." She murmured to him finally, pulling her legs up, arms wrapping around her knees. She would be brave. She could be brave.

Daryl nodded his understanding and said no more on the matter.

"You should go get some sleep." He told her after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"I'm not tired. I'll watch with you." Those were her last words and they were clearly a lie. She felt a gently nudge on her knee and she woke groggily, her neck positively aching.

She'd fallen asleep slumped against Daryl's shoulder and he was shaking her leg softly, urging her wake up. She wiped her eyes and yawned and as she clambered to her feet unsteadily, Glenn rounded upon them, rubbing his own face wearily.

She didn't even bother to apologise to Daryl this time, padding softly to their cell, his hand guiding her at the small of her back.


	7. Fight

Author's Notes: Thank you for taking the time to read and review, much appreciated.

TWDTWDTWD

She wondered what on earth she had let herself in for the next morning. Daryl had clearly passed on her agreement to Rick because when she stepped into the kitchen with Beth and Lori to make breakfast, he insisted on her sitting in with the rest of them to discuss the plan of action.

There were almost a dozen voices, each with their own opinion and she couldn't keep up with who's was who's. They seemed to agree they needed to split into two teams, one to distract, the others to get Carol through the window.

It was tiring, listening to them all but eventually by lunch, they seemed to have a plan in mind.

"So, if we split in two. Carol, Tyreese, Daryl, Connor and Swifty can get through the yard. The rest of us will make it through the side gates. We'll use the flares and guns on our end, make our way up to the top yard where the cars are, try and lead them out onto the road." Tyreese had laid out a plan of the prison on the table, gesturing the route that group would take.

"I'll be hoistin' Carol up to the window, once she's in-" Tyreese stopped and redirected his words to her with a smile. "Once you're in, try and see if the door can be opened, even if it's with the saw. If it can't, then things'll just have to be pushed through the window. The rest of us just pick off the strays. Once she's out, we'll radio you guys back in. And it'll be that easy."

"Hopefully." Maggie bit out. "What exactly is in this lock up?"

"I wouldn't know, I only got here a couple of months ago. Not a con, remember." Tyreese said.

"I know." Swifty shifted in his seat. He was in his late twenties, so Carol thought, an inmate who had been serving time for manslaughter, so he said. "There are riot shields, safety gear you know. They used batons. Machine guns. Smoke canisters. There were like, three hundred wardens and security folks. We had a riot here, few years back. Never seen so many guns in all my life."

"Tomorrow, then? Give me some time to show Carol how to use the saw." Tyreese stood up, signalling the end of the conversation. "Carol, would you like me to show you now? Can use some of the empty cells in the solitary wing, there's some internal windows with bars to practice on."

Carol nodded, standing up with him and zipping her fleece sweater up. Daryl pushed back his chair to follow them and Carol did not miss the look that passed between the two men.

"You don't have to come if you're busy." She murmured to him but he just shook his head dismissively. She trusted Tyreese, she didn't know why, but there was something about the man that screamed honesty. For someone so damn big, he was so soft. He always made an effort to talk to her and she liked their conversations. And she thought Daryl trusted him too, he's pretty much said that to her in passing some days ago.

Tyreese just looked at Daryl with a troubled expression before nodding and letting them both pass. "It's fine. We'll go now."

TWDTWDTWD

By dinner time, Carol could successfully lift the saw above her head to cut through half a dozen bars in less than five minutes. It hurt, by God, it ached so bad. The machine was heavy and the vibrations from it sent her whole body shaking. But she could do it. Whether she could do it whilst balancing on Tyreese's shoulders was another thing.

Daryl watched from the sidelines as Tyreese showed her what to do, never saying a word, hardly even looking in her direction. She wondered why he had even come when he held no interest in what was going on. He trusted Tyreese, so why did look so damn angry?

As they walked back down to the hall, Daryl stormed on ahead, leaving the two of them meandering their way back.

"So Carol, what did you do before the dead started walking?" He asked conversationally, holding the door open for her that had just slammed shut behind Daryl.

She snorted lightly. "Not a whole lot. I was a housewife."

"Nothing wrong with that. But your husband...?"

She shook her head. "It was not a happy marriage. He died back in Atlanta, a while ago. Got bit."

"I'm sorry to hear it anyway. Daryl sure looks after you well anyway." Tyreese told her, his voice lowering so that it did not reach the man he spoke off.

Carol smiled softly. "He looks after us all. Very well. And what about you? What did you do?"

"I hadn't long retired."

"Retired? You're not old enough to retire!" She exclaimed with a laugh. Tyreese surely wasn't more than early forties, if that.

"I was in my job." His chuckle boomed through the corridor. "I played pro-football. I was taking some time off before deciding if I wanted to go into coaching."

"Stands to reason, you were built for football."

"I was. We were actually on our way to Atlanta, when word spread about it being flattened. Did you see it?"

Carol nodded. "'We'?" She asked.

"My daughter Julie and her boyfriend, Chris. Lost them just before we got here."

"I'm sorry. I lost my daughter not too long ago. She was twelve." Tyreese opened the last door and made room for her to step into it. Before they could say anything more to each other, Carl and Beth were standing in front of her, asking questions about dinner and the conversation was forgotten.

TWDTWDTWD

Daryl couldn't explain the emotions that consumed him. Anger was easy. Tyreese pissed him off. But the other feeling, that was jealousy and it was uncomfortable. He never was one for feeling envious of anyone else, but he wanted to slam his fist in the man's face when he saw how he was with Carol. She was so easy going with him, laughing and joking.

He tried not to show it when they got back to the cell for the night. He had the last watch and he couldn't bring himself to talk to her as he slammed the chair under the door, holding it shut. He ignored her side eye as she kicked off her shoes and unbuckled her belt to thread off the knife he still made her carry, several days on.

"Ya gonna need something to cover your arms and shit tomorrow." He finally grunted out at her. "Window's gonna be a tight fit and you're gonna have to smash the glass. Don't wanna risk the Walkers smellin' blood."

"This will have to do." She shrugged off the fleece, throwing it to the bottom of the bed. "Maybe somebody will have gloves somewhere too."

He groaned under his breath. That was exactly the reason why Carol wasn't suited to the job. She was completely unprepared for something like this, way too relaxed. He pulled his saddlebag from the floor near the door and hunted in its depths.

When he finally found what he was looking for, he spun around to her and they both froze when his eyes landed on her. She was in the process of undoing the buttons on her shirt, it was open half way down, exposing the creamy freckled skin on her chest. Her hands seemed stuck on her button and she just gaped back at him, clearly embarrassed at having been caught undressing.

Eventually she unfroze herself, spinning on her heel to finish the task. Daryl knew that was his cue to turn away but he couldn't seem to find the willpower to actually do it.

"Sorry, should've warned you I wanted to change." She murmured without even looking at him. She shrugged the shirt off her shoulders and he found himself utterly entranced by her. She wore nothing underneath and he was mesmerised by the way her muscles moved under the smooth flesh, shoulder blades rippling under the skin gracefully as she leant over to reach for her tank top.

He heard the rip of a zip being undone and her pants slipped on her hips slightly. He snapped to and turned around because he didn't think he could cope with seeing anymore of her, particularly if she wore as little on her lower half as she did on top.

He gave her a minute, pretending to busy himself with the saddlebag before he heard her weight settle on the bed and when he turned back around she was changing her socks.

"Here." He tossed down the gloves next to her. He didn't even remember where he'd picked them up from, it had been so long ago. But they'd served him well, useful for field dressing deer to burning Walkers. They were dirty and bloodstained and Carol bit her lip as her fingertips picked them up, turning them over.

"Thank you." She placed them next to her knives on the bedside cabinet, before peeling back the covers and slipping into the narrow bed.

"I'm going to do it, you know." She whispered to him as he dimmed the lantern that separated them.

He nodded at her once, just as the light clicked off.

TWDTWDTWD

Carol woke just before dawn broke over the prison. Despite her confident promise to Daryl, she had tossed and turned all night and when she finally fell asleep she was jolted awake by the sound of the door creaking open as Daryl left for his turn on watch.

She changed quickly, pulling on the weapons she had, tucking the gloves into her jeans pocket. The floor was quiet and she had to step right out into the corridor to find Daryl, who was leaning on the railing by the stairs, peering over into the floor below.

"Wanna go as soon as the others drag their asses up. Rain's comin' down good, been watchin' them a bit. They get confused." Daryl pushed off the bars to walk to the window and she followed him.

He was right. There was something odd about the way the Walkers behaved. She'd seen them when they hadn't spotted a meal and they aimlessly shuffled about, perking up when they heard a noise. The howl of the wind and the rain sent them bumping into each other, into walls and fences. It was promising, but she wondered how long they'd remain confused when they smelt living flesh.

They stood in silence for minutes, how many she didn't know, just watching the creatures as they bumbled their way about. Eventually she heard stirring from below, the deep rumble of Tyreese's voice and a few minutes later, the clanging of his boots on the metal staircase.

"Ready to get out there?" He asked once he reached the top.

Carol nodded, folding her arms, trying to rub some warmth into them. Daryl just looked at the man, before turning back into the cells hollering out to some of the others.

When he came back with them a few moments later, he tossed her his jacket. "Don't spill blood, 's last thing we need." He grunted at her and as the others made their way down the stairs, he pushed past Tyreese to pound down behind them.

Tyreese gave Carol a questioning look, one that asked what exactly what Daryl's problem was but she just shrugged and tugged the jacket on. She never knew what went on in that man's head.

"Ok. We ready for this?" Rick made them look over the prison map one final time, even though Carol felt sure it would be of no use to her, simply because she would be able to see her target from the door.

Her role was simple. Run. Run to the the block and make sure to stick by Tyreese, because without him, she wasn't going to be able to even reach the window. Rick had instructed her not to waste time trying to pick off Walkers and she scoffed inwardly that he even had to tell her. Her grand total of Walker kills totalled zero. She'd never had much opportunity and she had even less skill to do so. Sure, she had the knife, but some how she doubted she would be able to use it.

Connor fixed a radio to her jacket, demonstrated how to work the buttons, then passed one to Rick, Glenn and Daryl before strapping on onto his own belt. A flashlight quickly followed and she stuffed it into the pocket of Daryl's jacket.

Walking to the doors, down the dark winding corridors was a little like walking in a funeral procession, she thought. No-one said a word. Not until the bolts slid over on the door and Simon held the handle, ready to open.

"Remember, if it's getting overrun, get out, whether it's out the prison or back in here, just get out. Don't fight when you aren't going to win." Rick warned them, looking at each of them.

Carol glanced over and saw Maggie's hand squeeze Glenn's and her breath hitched in her throat. Before she could panic just like she wanted to, the door was shoved open and the first group darted out, she didn't even see them go before Connor pulled the door shut, leaving just the smallest gap for him to peer through.

The groans got loud, like wasps buzzing in her ears and Carol danced from one foot to the other, ready to go. Less than a couple of minutes later the radios crackled and Rick's voice came through, telling them they'd made it to the next yard.

"Let's go." Tyreese muttered and Connor pushed the door open. Tyreese went next, one hand holding the saw for her and she darted out after him. The light of day, despite being overcast and rainy, made her eyes sting and as she managed to refocus, she caught sight of the back of the Walkers that herded towards the other yard, running to catch their intended meal. There were a few left, a couple of dozen maybe and she leapt to one side as she ran to avoid one that came into reach. As it's gnarled hands brushed the back of Daryl's jacket, the man himself came behind her, grabbing the thing by the back of it's collar and ramming his knife into it's forehead.

"Come on, Carol!" Tyreese had already made it to the window and she tried to pick up the pace, but it was easy for Tyreese to say. He was nearing seven foot tall and for every step he took, Carol needed to take three. A few seconds later she made it to him and he held his hands out for her to climb up onto him.

He lifted her onto his shoulders like she was made of cotton candy, passing the saw up for her and she ripped her gaze from the other men, who had formed a loose semi circle around them both, attacking any Walker that stepped near them.

The bars came off quickly, for which she was grateful, although she had to shout out an apology to Tyreese when one fell on his toe. She caught the last one before it dropped and used it to break the glass with her free hand.

Just as she made to drop it so that she could clear the shards with a gloved hand she was pulled from the window sharply, lurching backwards in a manner that criked her back and almost sent her tumbling to the ground. A Walker had broken through their guard and Tyreese was frantically fumbling for his knife.

She looked forward and the other men were busy with their own troubles. Her eyes fell on the saw in her hand and she knew instantly what to do. She leant forward, starting up the saw and the thing's head fell to the ground before she could even sit back up.

"Nice." Tyreese murmured to her appreciatively, stepping back to the window. She cleared the glass and stretched up to pull her weight onto the frame, taking a look around. She was in luck. There was a metal cabinet, half of it sat under the window and it would mean only a few feet to drop onto. She pushed the saw in, pushing it along the cabinet and jerked the flashlight out of her pocket to quickly scan the room. There was no movement.

"I'm going in." She used all the strength she had to pull her own weight upwards, just managing to squeeze her shoulders through the narrow space. Sucking in her breath she managed to pull her upper half through, tugging only slightly to get her hips to fit. Tyreese gave her feet a push and finally she was in.

"I'll be at the door!" She heard him yell out and she shimmied down the cabinet immediately, seeking out the door in question.

She had no clue which angle would be best to saw at. It was airtight, there no gaps that she could find and in the end she opted to just use the saw as brute force on the lock. It made a god awful sound, screeching at the metal in a pitch so high she thought her eardrums might pop, but eventually she cut through, light pouring through the gap.

Tyreese was where he said would be, a few feet in front of the door, fighting off a Walker in handcuffs.

"Door's open, I'm gathering up." She panted into the radio, dropping the saw to reach for the nearest things to her, plastic riot shields. She stacked them haphazardly outside the door, managing to get eight out before deciding to move onto the vests, the kind police officers wore.

She heard the crackle of a response back through the radio, but it was fuzzy so she had no clue who it was or what it said.

There were gun bags hanging from pegs on the wall and she ripped several open, slamming them in quickly. They were heavier than she thought. By the time she dropped the second lot outside the riot shields had gone and she squinted into the distance to see Daryl and Swifty both running back towards the door they'd exited from, dropping them and taking out even more Walkers on the way back.

The cabinet she climbed in on was filled with guns, big ones that were longer than her arm and she stacked them in, tossing in boxes of ammunition that were stacked on the bottom shelf.

The pile she was creating was slowly disappearing and finally she came to the last of the guns, switching for batons and cans of mace. She'd almost left the mace, because she knew that it would be useless against Walkers, but suddenly the image of Keith leapt into her mind, unbidden, and she tossed in several. Just in case.

She dropped the last bag down and Tyreese instantly picked it up, along with the discarded saw. Before she could say that she was done, he tore off, bolting across the yard in a manner that made Carol understand exactly how he was a pro-footballer. Her eyes scanned the yard and her heart thundered when she couldn't see Daryl or the other two.

But she could see the Walkers that were ambling back into the yard. Over a dozen of them easily. And they could see her. Their groans heightened and they picked up the pace towards her.

She jumped backwards, slamming the door shut and cursing out loud when it bounced off the frame. The cutting off of the lock had rendered it useless. She forced herself to breathe, choking down the desire to hyperventilate, scanning the room for something to block the door with.

Her eyes fell on the cabinet that she had come in on, the tallest one there and likely the heaviest. It was virtually empty now, having already looted it of all it's worth but still, it was heavy. Carol threw her weight against it and on her third attempt, it teetered forward, wobbling onto two corners and falling with a bang.

She shoved and shoved and just as she heard the moaning and scratching coming closer, almost in the room, she gave a yelp as it moved across the door, which slammed shut, severing the fingers of the Walker which almost made it's way through it.

Carol leant forward, resting her hands on her knees, wretching from the exertion, the most physical effort she had ever used in her life.

She realised quickly on regaining her breath that she would need to exit out of the window but her only means of doing so was currently preventing her from getting eaten to death. There were four other cabinets and she reached for them, letting out a cry when the first one was fixed firmly to the wall. She tried each of them and only the third moved any, the concrete having loosened around the screws that intended to hold it in place.

After much tugging, it came free and she shoved it over to the window. Stepping on it, she realised she would only be able to reach the window with hands. The cabinet didn't extend high enough for her to even be able to see out the window let alone be high enough for her to pull her weight through the tiny gap.

The door shook violently and she could see the cabinet shifting slowly, just and inch or so, but light began to flood that corner of the room. She jumped uselessly, silently praying for the strength to pull herself by just her hands. It was futile.

"Daryl!" She screamed into the radio. "I'm trapped! I can't reach the window and there's a bunch of Walkers trying to get in the door!" She let the sob she'd been holding back and slumped down the wall to sit on the cabinet.

The radio crackled back, a male voice, but she couldn't make heads nor tails of it. She cried openly now, watching the rotting hand twist it's way through the minute gap in the door, grasping vainly into the air for her.

This was it. It was game over for her. And all Carol could think of was that she was glad she going like this. Glad to be going out doing something that helped. That made a difference.


	8. Saviour

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reads and reviews. You make me happier than a pig in shit.

TWDTWDTWD

He heard the panic in her voice even through the crackle of the radio and he scanned the yard for the others. He couldn't spot Tyreese and he swore softly as he ploughed his knife into yet another Walker because if that lumbering fucker went down, there was no hope for the rest of them.

He freed up his knife and pressed his hand to the radio. "I'm comin'. Get as close as to the window as ya can and use that fuckin' knife." He bolted to the window, swerving to avoid a limping Walker that tumbled to the ground as it jumped for him. He could see the crowd of flesh eaters at the door, scratching away to get in.

"Connor, where are you?" He hollered into the radio.

"North west corner." The response echoed back immediately and Daryl eventually spotted him. The man jogged closer and Daryl put his hand back on the button for the radio.

"Rick, you need to get back here, got more Walkers pourin' in and they're trappin' Carol. Need all hands."

"Where's Tyreese?" Connor shrugged, hand on his brow as he hunted the area. "Need to get Carol out."

He wouldn't be able to reach her by himself and he scanned the disused gym equipment, rusting in the rain.

"Help me shift this." He started heaving the metal lump across the grass and Connor quickly grasped what he wanted to do. "Start gettin' rid of the ones at the door."

The equipment was heavy and it didn't help that they kept having to drop the damned thing to take out Walkers. He finally spotted Swifty and Tyreese up near the door, one taking out Walkers, the other throwing the equipment inside.

"Hey!" Connor hollered out to them but the rain and the wind made it difficult for his voice to be heard across the yard. "Shit, Dixon, we need to thin this herd out, they're gonna get through the door before we can get her out."

Daryl dropped the bench, peering around the corner and jerking himself backwards when he realised exactly Walkers there were clawing at the door. Fifteen or so and he could see the door warping under their combined force. It would only take a minute or two before they broke through. And it was unlikely they could take out all of them before they got ripped apart themselves.

"Come on, shift this!" He yelled at Connor with more urgency now and the other man complied, both of them throwing their weight into moving the hunk of metal. Eventually it screeched forward, resting under the window. "Rick, get the fuck over here now!" He shouted once more into the radio. "Watch my back!"

He holstered his knife and pulled himself up onto the bench, balancing precariously on a thin beam of metal. "Carol!" The window barely reached his chest and he didn't hear a response to his call, he couldn't see her either and he thought for one heart stopping second that he was too late, that she was gone.

He pulled back slightly to adjust his footing on the beam, when hands snatched out, grasping into the air. He thought they belonged to the dead at first, but they were warm, the skin smooth to the touch. His fingers wrapped around Carol's and he bent forward to reach inward, unable to move in any further when his shoulders jarred the frame.

"Come on, I got ya." Carol was below him, standing on a cabinet, hands outstretched in his, her face streaked with tears. He released her fingers to get a grip on her elbows, the furthest down he could reach and she clutched back on to him, feet kicking at the wall trying to find purchase against the smooth concrete.

He pulled with all his might and her head met his at the opening, he loosened his hold to grip her under her arms instead and her torso was almost through, just as he went to give one more yank, his foot came from under him and he let go of her as he almost tumbled to the ground. He heard her scream sharply and he saw her slid back into the room, but a Walker had hold of his foot, mashing at the leather of his shoe.

He kicked it off, fumbling for his knife as he tried to stand, crushing his boot into the thing's neck, holding it down. He gripped the handle of the weapon, yanked it free and stabbed it into the soft rotting skull.

He spotted Tyreese and Swifty, approaching them from the distance, weapons in hand and as he climbed back onto the bench he heard the shouts of the others. Daryl reached back up for Carol's hands and as he lifted himself so she came into view, he caught her doubled over, hand clutching her side.

A quick glance across the room told him that the Walkers hadn't made their way in yet, but it wouldn't be long, one had squeezed it's rancid head through already.

"Come on!" He yelled at her and she looked at him, eyes wet and her hands came up to him, coated in red. He swallowed the lump in his throat and said a silent prayer that it wouldn't somehow have been bitten. "Come on, I got you this time."

He heard Maggie's yells behind him and he knew that he had his ass covered. Carol clutched to his upper arms and he heaved her with all that he could, trying to not look at the blood that trailed down under his jacket, dripping onto the waistband of her jeans.

"Are you alright, did you get bit?" She breathed at him, just as he pulled her harder, her top half finally coming through the window. She grasped at his neck, wincing as her hips slid through the gap. He couldn't even take a breath to answer before she began bucking against him, legs kicking furiously and he realised that the Walkers had broken through the door.

He gave one final pull and she came sliding out, he lost his footing on the thin bench and toppled to the ground, still gripping Carol around the waist. She cried out as she landed on his stomach, fingers falling to her side. He wasted no time in dragging her up to her feet, ignoring her protests of pain.

He quickly surveyed the situation, trying to locate the rest of the group, spotting a few but not all. For all the Walkers they had taken down, there seemed to be exactly the same amount still there, pouring in through the open gates.

"Rick, Carol's injured, time to go." He ordered into the radio. Rick crackled back an affirmative. He adjusted his grip on Carol, forcing her stand upright. "We're goin' for the door." He told her. "It's just a few steps away. Ya gonna be fine, just gotta run this last bit, alright?"

She nodded and together they made a hurried run across the yard. Daryl stopped to take out a Walker that was right in their eyeline and urged her to keep going. She had only made it three steps when she heard the scream. A scream that was definitely human. Living human.

It seemed to go in slow motion, she turned on her heel to see Swifty, poor Swifty, lose a chunk of his arm, hammer still in his hand. His yells rang louder for a moment and she saw the rest of the group all stop, horrified at what played out before them. Walkers all around smelt the blood and they immediately shuffled to the source.

She knew there was nothing that could be done. Swifty was bit and once you got bit, there was no going back. But that didn't mean she could find the strength to tear her eyes away. His screams turned to gurgles as he received another bite to his throat and Carol felt the urge to wretch.

"Come on!" Daryl raced past her, grasping her arm and yanking her towards the door, stuffing her through. Glenn and Maggie were already there, pushing the gear into the corridor to make way for them all.

Daryl ripped the flashlight from her pocket. "Show me the wound. Did you get bit?" He was tugging at the hem of his jacket, trying to force it up to see the source of the blood. She squirmed away from him, stumbling back, over a bag of bulletproof vests and knocking her head against the wall.

His eyes were burning, even in the poor light she could she them and he put his hand on the hem again, gripping it firmly. "Show me." He snarled at her. She was frightened. Daryl had done plenty of things that would scare most, but never before had she feared him, not until that very moment. She brought her hand down, curling her fingers over his and pulled the hem upwards.

As the air hit the wound, she felt it sting once more and she resisted hissing in pain. When he lost his grip on her the first time out of the window, she slid downwards, but the jacket got caught on the window ledge, her skin only covered by her thin shirt as the jagged glass caught her stomach, cutting her skin from near her navel right up to wear her bra sat on her chest.

"Glass. It was glass." She gasped, pushing away from him as the others came through, Tyreese slamming the door shut. He stared at her for a second before turning to look at the others.

"Simon!" He barked. "Carol's cut."

Simon dropped his bag, pushing past them to get to Carol.

"Alright, come on Carol." He said softly. "We'll go ahead and get you cleaned up."

TWDTWDTWD

Simon took her to one of the offices on the first floor, clearing off a desk for her to lay down. His hands were soft and gentle and he took care to make sure that he didn't cause any additional pain.

The wound was not as bad as the blood suggested it would be. He cleaned the area carefully, patching her up with steri-strips and a bandage.

"You mustn't strain yourself for a few days, otherwise I am gonna have to put in proper sutures and I don't have the medicine to do that in a pain free manner. When did you last have a tetanus shot?" Simon secured the bandage tightly, helping her to stand up.

"A couple of years ago maybe?" Her memory was fuzzy on that one. Sometimes she wondered if she could remember anything of her old life.

"That's good -"

Simon's next words were cut off by the shouting that could be heard down the corridor, a few voices, some deeper than others. She could hear Tyreese, although he wasn't exactly shouting, his voice just always carried over others. But one voice sounded angriest and even though she couldn't hear the words, she knew who's it was.

"Come on, let's go see what's going on." Simon chucked the last of his kit into the bag. "You alright to walk?"

Carol nodded the affirmative and waited for him as he locked the office back up. "Got a couple of junkies in here." He explained to her, tucking the key into an inner pocket of his coat. "Medicine goes far too quick as it is."

As they neared the doors to the cafeteria hall, the voices got louder and she could clearly hear what was being said. Her name was mentioned repeatedly.

"You should've been there! You were responsible for her! She nearly got ripped to shreds!" Daryl was being held back by both Rick and Glenn, yelling in Tyreese's face. Or as close to Tyreese's face as he could be when the man was almost a foot taller than him.

It was lucky that Tyreese could hold his temper somewhat better, because Carol was sure that Daryl would've been beaten half to death by now.

The rest of the room fell silent as the door bounced off the lock behind Carol, eyes lingering on her, but Daryl and Tyreese appeared oblivious to her, continuing their verbal sparring match.

She took a step forward, still unnoticed and she decided she had to get involved to stop it. They halted mid-sentence as she stepped in between them, facing Daryl, her arms folded over her chest.

"I'm fine, alright." She turned and nodded to Tyreese. "Stop it, these things happen. I'd rather think that what happened to Swifty was more important than a scratch from glass." Daryl relaxed his stance and Glenn and Rick finally let him go. He was breathing heavily through his nose, probably in an attempt to hold back from saying anything more. "It's not Tyreese's fault."

Daryl snorted and before she could say anything else, he stormed away.

TWDTWDTWD

She didn't seem him all day. She had no clue where he had gotten to and nobody else had either. She'd guessed that he was angry at her for taking what he perceived to be as Tyreese's "side". But she didn't see it like that. Sure, she could be angry at Tyreese for leaving her unprotected, but really, wasn't that her fault? She should've learnt long before now how to look after herself. They'd lost one man today and it wasn't anyone's fault, just a risk that they took everyday.

She had wanted to thank Daryl. Without him, she surely would be dead. Or undead. He was her saviour. She joined the others when it was sundown, taking her time time to get up the stairs. She could walk fine, although the wound stung as she made it up the steps.

She was surprised to see him spread across his bed when she pushed the door open completely, turning a knife over in his hand.

"Thought you'd disappeared on me." She muttered as she eased herself down onto her bed.

He merely grunted at her, tossing the knife onto the counter and sitting himself up against the wall. She waited to see if she would get anything more out of him as she tugged her boots off, sighing at his silence.

"I'm going to change." That was her hint for him to avert his gaze and he took it, sliding off the bed and pulling his bag off the floor to root around in it with his back to her. There was little space between the two beds and her skin prickled, feeling him just an inch or so from her own back.

She hissed as she raised her arms over her head, tossing the blood soaked shirt aside.

"You alright?" He asked softly, head turning over his shoulder.

"It's just sore. It's fine." She murmured reaching for her vest.

"You get stitched?"

"Steri-strips. It's not that deep." She unzipped her pants and wriggled free of them, pulling her pajama shorts.

"Didn't look like it." He muttered churlishly. Carol turned to look at him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He twisted back to her quickly and she dropped her hand.

"It's fine. I'm sure I remember you suffering worse back at the farm. It's not worth getting angry with Tyreese for something that was out of his control."

"It was his job to watch you. Not bein' able to stick to a plan is bad news on a run at the best of times. You nearly died, Carol. If I got there a minute later..."

"But you didn't. We nearly die all the time. At least as I was doing something worth dying for." He was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite understand and truthfully, it made her a little uncomfortable, so she pulled away to slip under her blankets.

"I'm sick of hearin' shit like that come outta ya mouth." She looked at him bewildered. "Stop it." He shook his head at her and lay back down on his own bed. He flicked the flashlight off and she lay in silence for a moment, staring at the black ceiling.

"Thank you for saving me today." She whispered into the darkness.

She heard him take a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"Anytime."


	9. Friend

Author's Notes: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Sorry for the delays on this one, it's been a busy and trying week. Find me on Twitter/Tumblr under SepticLovebite, you know you want to ;)

TWDTWDTWD

It had been twenty six days since they'd arrived at the prison. Daryl wasn't one for keeping track of dates but he knew exactly how long it had been since his foot had touched green land. It was awful. Every day that passed felt like a noose that tightened that little bit more.

The last time he had been to prison, he was twenty two. His old man was still alive then, Merle had been out of jail for a few months. Stealing cars hadn't been his idea and he didn't even know why he did it. He went alone after the first couple of times. Usually went joyriding, dumping them a few hours later. He didn't remember how he got caught. Three years. He kept his nose clean and got out in just under two.

Merle had always made prison seem like a barrel of laughs, but for Daryl it was absolutely terrifying. Every day he woke in fear and every night he drifted off on the verge of tears. Aside from the inmates, there was claustrophobia. It was all consuming. He'd lie in his cell at night and somehow feel that that walls were closing in on him. That feeling didn't change more than ten years later.

In the end, he forced his way out. Rick didn't argue when he insisted on going hunting. The man probably knew better. They'd been clearing out the prison inch by inch but it was gruesome job, one that was taking them an age. It was exhausting, on the mind and the body. They hadn't lost anyone since Swifty, but there had been too many close calls. Rick and Tyreese insisted on not doing it everyday, letting people recover. They paid close attention to the minds of the others, keeping everyone...well not happy, but in a state that meant they weren't going to blow their brains out.

Rick did argue however, when Daryl told him he was going alone. He'd never taken someone hunting before and he wasn't about to start now. There were plenty more to find meat for now and he wasn't going to waste time by dragging along a dead weight.

Rick wasn't the only one who argued with him, she did too.

"Why can't you just take a couple of people with you? They don't have to go into the forests, just wait at the truck." Carol pulled her boots off and stood them neatly at the foot of her bed, tutting when he ripped his own off and chucked them in a heap right between their mattresses.

"You gonna go on 'bout this all night? 'Cos I'm 'bout ready to drag my ass out and sleep downstairs." He griped, pulling his knife roll out to check them all. He'd planned on heading out at dawn. The weather had held off for a day or two and he figured if it held out he could get back before nightfall. The threat was an empty one, one that he seemed to use every other day when she pissed him off. He'd yet to even attempt to leave the cell after saying he would.

Carol rolled her eyes. "There's not just you, you know. There are almost forty other people to consider."

"Yeah, I'm considerin' the forty mouths to feed." He told her churlishly, testing the edge of one blade for sharpness.

"We've done fine so far. There's plenty here for now." Carol pulled the blankets back and settled into the bed.

"And it don't last forever. It ain't up for discussion. It's one day. Get Tyreese to take ya out, that oughta keep ya busy." He couldn't hide the tinge of resentment in his tone.

Carol had been spending an ever-increasing amount of time with Tyreese. Despite him being the one to suggest that Carol learnt a little something amount guns, the other man had been the one to take her. In the watch tower no less. Tyreese didn't get any manner of hint that Daryl had been throwing him. Carol was off limits.

Off limits to him too, he supposed. He wondered, sometimes. He was pretty inexperienced when it came to women. There had been girls, but never a girlfriend. Not since Penny Jackson in third grade. But even he knew that she looked to him like he was more to her than the others. More than Rick or T-Dog or any of the other men. Or she did until Tyreese.

"What is your problem with him? Tyreese has done nothing but help us and you are the _only _one who has such an issue with him." She watched him as pushed all the knives back into the roll, tossing it on to their shared bedside cabinet.

He snorted, turning away from her as he fussed with his bag and she sighed, pulling the covers back and shifting to the edge of the bed. She was knee to knee with him, her elbows resting on her thighs.

He kept his gaze averted. She had those damned pajama shorts on, ones he explicitly told her she shouldn't wear. Not just in case other inmates got any ideas but for his own sanity as well. He didn't think a pair of legs could do that to a man, whatever it was they did. But they damn well did it. He wondered what the rest of her looked like. Sure, he'd seen some but he'd found himself wondering more and more. He tried his hardest to push thoughts like that away. The last thing he needed was a distraction. Plus, it was _Carol_. Carol was way too good a person for him. Even thinking thoughts like that seemed to taint her somewhat. He didn't even know how or when he'd gotten to thinking like that.

"You got to start trusting people, Daryl. How can we expect those men downstairs to let their guard down around us when you won't do the same?" He looked up sharply at that, her voice was soft and he was taken aback when he realised her head was tilted down to him, just inches away.

"You trust them, it'll go badly. You trust that Keith?"

"No. He's different. " Carol reluctantly agreed. But they weren't all like that, surely? Tyreese wasn't. Or Simon. Or even some of the inmates. Connor. Alex. There were others.

"You see the way he looks at you? All of you? He looks at Beth like he's gonna pounce any second. You wanna let your guard down around that?" He pushed back, away from her, so that he rested against the cold wall.

"He'll-"

"He'll what? He won't change. He ain't gonna stop. He's bidin' his time and he ain't the only one. Do whatever it is you keep doin' with Tyreese, but don't for a minute think that cosyin' up to him is gonna stop the others from wantin' a piece of ya." With that he threw himself back against his pillow.

Carol shook her head, utterly confused.

"What do you think is going on here?"

Daryl didn't say anything, just shaking his head and flicking the flashlight off. The cell fell into darkness and Carol found herself wondering what the heck the conversation had turned into.

"Daryl-" Carol stopped to let an exasperated breath out through her nose and tried to regroup her thoughts. She pushed herself off the bed and sat on the edge of his and she felt him recoil as her weight settled on the mattress. "I don't know what you seem to think is going on with Tyreese and I, but I'm pretty sure it's not what actually is going on."

Daryl said nothing but she could tell by his breathing that he was looking right at her.

"He's just being nice. Showing me how to use the guns. That's all." Carol told him, a hand reaching out and landing somewhere on his middle. His muscles clenched at the unforeseen touch but Carol didn't move her hand. She had hoped that after all this time, something as small as her touch would not startle him so.

"That's not what he thinks." He muttered finally. He brought his hand up to push hers away but she refused to move it, gripping to the front of his shirt. His fingers clenched around her knuckles but neither seemed prepared to give up their fight.

"He said something to you?" Carol narrowed her eyes at him, even though he would be unable to see her. Tyreese had never once behaved in a way that suggested he was more than a friend. Not unless she was totally blind to it.

"He don't gotta." He told her.

"You're misreading it." She said firmly. "And if you're not, well then, it's not reciprocated. I like Tyreese, but not in that way. Not him."

She let go of his shirt and his fingers slackened around her hand, dropping as she pulled back onto her own bed.

"Promise me you will take a radio tomorrow." She ordered as she slipped back into bed.

Daryl gave a snort of derision. "Yeah." He muttered.

"And promise you'll come back." She whispered. That was her main worry for him leaving, as much as she didn't want to admit it. He hated the prison and he hated almost everyone in it. She hated herself for having doubts and worst of all, for voicing them, but she did wonder if he would come back.

"What?" He barked. "'Course, I'm comin' back. Jesus. Just go to sleep. Done enough talkin' here for a lifetime."

Carol smirked at his sudden change of tone, thumping her pillow into shape and finally drifting off to sleep.

TWDTWDTWD

Carol watched him leave from the watch tower, kicking up the dust around the prison gates as he sped up to avoid any Walkers catching hold of the truck.

"Come on, let's get some target practice done." Tyreese laid a hand on her shoulder and she turned away from the sight of Daryl retreating to focus back on the yard. She smiled up at Tyreese and he smiled back, letting go of her to put both hands on his gun.

"Hey, let's make it a race. I bet I can get more than you in ten minutes." He told her, his voice playful.

Carol let out a laugh. "Oh come on, when have you ever won this one?" It was true. Tyreese showed her how to use the damn thing, but she aimed her gun far better than he could already. Tyreese was a terrible shot. On the ground, he could take out ten Walkers before she had even gotten one, if there was a hammer or a knife involved. Up there, she was outstripping him by the third day.

She was the only one that went up there with any regularity. From their group anyhow. Maggie and Glenn did, but she half suspected that was for some privacy for other things because there were never many shots to be heard when it was their turn.

Beth and Carl were getting better. But the weapons they had readily available were far too big for either of them and the bruising they often endured meant that it lost its appeal pretty quickly. The thought made her rub her hand over her right clavicle, the skin there had bloomed a purple hue the day she picked up the gun and hadn't faded away much since.

It turned out however, that Beth was pretty good in hand to hand combat. Carol thought maybe Simon's son Riley had a hand in getting the young girl to go out and try it, despite Hershel's protests. Probably in an effort to impress the handsome youth, she was eager to be his student. She was quick on her feet and deft with a knife, what she lacked in size and strength she made up for with determination and quick wit.

"So I think that was nine to me, and how many, Tyreese? Three? Wait, an arm shot doesn't count. So two. If this were like the old days, you'd owe me a drink." Carol chuckled to herself and reloaded the weapon. "This thing keeps jamming, you ever going to show me how to clean it?"

Tyreese let out a booming laugh. "Hon, I can load and fire the thing, that's the extent of my teachings. Gonna have to get Rick to show us all or somethin'."

"Yeah, maybe Daryl would know, can't say I have seen him with a machine gun though..." Carol said, mostly to herself as she made a circle around the watch tower, even though it seemed ridiculous, the man had barely been gone an hour.

Tyreese said nothing at that, busying himself with reloading his weapon. That piqued her interest. Her ears still rang with the words from her and Daryl's conversation. Although Tyreese were nowhere as obvious about it as Daryl, this was not the first time he'd chosen silence as a response whenever she mentioned the other man.

She allowed some time to pass silently, turning to continue her picking off of the Walkers that seemed to never shrink in number in the prison yard.

"Tyreese..." Carol picked her words delicately. "Can I ask, what do you think of Daryl?"

She turned away to allow him to respond without her steady gaze, firing the gun at a Walker that just entered the yard. It jerked at the shot, teetering for a second before crumpling to the ground.

She heard him clear his throat, the clink of ammunition as he rattled the box.

"Man's a good fighter. Good with strategy. Done a fine job at most things since he got here."

"But?" Carol asked.

"No buts." He answered quickly, sending off a shot and missing his target, merely causing it to stumble.

"That was loaded with a 'but'. Do you not trust him?" This didn't seem possible to Carol. Daryl to her seemed like an open book. He never lied, never hide his opinion from anyone yet he never thrusted it in their faces either. He worked hard, always doing more than his share. What was there not to trust?

"You do. Rick does. That's enough for me. You share your bed with him, so I hear." Carol stiffened at that. Maybe Daryl _was_ onto something after all.

"I share a _cell_ with him, yes. The men, they worry about some of the...Keith...and some others. Safety in numbers and all that." She responded lightly. "He is my friend." Friend was an odd choice of word to describe what Daryl meant to her, but it was the only one she wanted to divulge to Tyreese. How did you describe someone who did the things that Daryl had done for her?

"That's not what he thinks." Tyreese muttered, putting the gun aside to look at her properly.

"He said something?" She asked skeptically.

"He don't have to. He's always circlin' you. You say you're friends, but Daryl gives off vibes that comin' near you entitles me to a punch in the face."

Carol shook her head although it seemed pointless in denying it now. This was all so confusing.

"Daryl and I are friends. He has done a great deal for me. Things I will never forget." She put her own gun down and watched as Tyreese approached.

"And you and me? Are we friends?" He asked earnestly, sitting on the stool next to her. Even when he sat, his shoulders matched hers in height. She honestly didn't think she had ever met a man as big as him.

"Of course." She nodded with a smile.

"But what if I...aw, I mean..." Tyreese didn't even find the right words before his head tipped closer, eyes shut. Instantly, Carol froze, horrified. He was going to _kiss_ her. This was not what was supposed to happen. How could she not have not known this was going to happen? She jerked herself back, pressing herself up against the window of the watchtower.

His eyes snapped open, she saw the hurt in them and guilt flooded her. She shook her head softly.

"I'm sorry." Her cheeks flamed red and she wrung her hands. Why? Why her? Why did he want this? Had she been making him think that she wanted it too? "I can't."

"You don't want to?" He asked. His large hand rubbed his face wearily and he stood up, backing away to put some space between them.

She shook her head again. "I was married for almost twenty years. I know I said it wasn't a good marriage, but it was my marriage all the same. I'm not ready for someone else." What she wanted to say was that she was not ready for Tyreese and she never would be, but it was too cruel. The man was lovely, but not in that way.

Tyreese took in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. "Alright. I'm sorry for the misunderstandin'."

"Don't be, it's alright. I'm sorry if I made you think something different. You _are_ my friend."

There was a sound of crackling and they both jumped as Lori's voice came through on the radio attached to Tyreese's belt. "Lunch is ready, you guys." Her voice came through tinny and cracked but Carol had never been so relieved for an interruption in her life.

They both scrambled for the stairs and he allowed her to go down first. As they strolled into the mess hall, her bent down, his breathe hot against her ear.

"I'll be waitin', till you're ready, it's alright." He told her with a smile. Carol groaned inwardly. How was she supposed to tell him that he'd gotten it wrong _again_? She took a plate for Lori wearily. She would save that conversation for another day, today had been excruciating enough.


	10. Mutiny

Author's Notes: Love you lots like Jelly Tots!

TWDTWDTWD

He wasn't back by nightfall. She tried not to panic. Daryl had taken a radio and according to Rick, he had checked in mid-afternoon. No-one else seemed all that worried, so she tried not to show her fear. In the end, the nail biting and the pacing became too much for even her to bear and she forced herself to retreat to their cell with some of the others, the ones that liked to sleep early.

Sleep did not come like she had hoped. She tossed and turned in the small bed for hours, getting up everytime she thought she heard a noise outside, standing on her tiptoes to crane her neck over the ledge of the cell window but there was never anything to see.

It didn't help that it was so damn cold in the prison, no matter how many layers she wore, the chill crept through to her bones. It seemed so much colder now that she was alone in the bleak and miserable cell.

She paced back and forth, lost in her own imagination, brain conjuring up the horrible things that could've happened to Daryl outside the prison walls. Occassionally, there was the rattle of metal as someone darted up and down the stairs and she couldn't help but put her foot over the cell's threshold to see if she could hear something about Daryl's whereabouts.

By 2am, she had given up all attempts at sleep, deciding to instead to tidy up the entire cell from top to bottom. There wasn't much to do in the small space. She folded both her's and Daryl's meagre amount of clothes, arranging them just so on the shelves. She rearranged the small cabinet that separated her bed from Daryl's, lining his remaining weapons up tidily, straightening up the few possessions that they possessed between them; a water canteen, one dog eared book, Carol's tiny pouch of needles and thread, found for her just the week previous, a hair comb, a bottle of shower gel and both their toothbrushes.

She remade his bed. It doesn't matter that she'd already made it once that day. She made it every day. He often griped at her for doing it, but really, what else was there for her to do? She liked to keep her days as busy as possible. This time she took care to smooth out every crinkle and crease, tucking the corners in just so.

There was a shuffling about on the floor below, muffled voices. Her ears perked up and she was sure she heard someone calling out for Glenn from the stairs. Sure enough, the door to Glenn and Maggie's cell creaked open and she managed to make it out the door to see Glenn jogging down the passage to the stairs.

She went to follow him when an arm pulled her back.

"It's alright." T-Dog released her instantly. "Daryl's radioed in, they're just gonna throw flares to distract the Walkers."

Carol nodded and turned back into the cell as T-Dog walked to the end of the corridor, taking up the post of watcher for the floor. She sat on the edge of his bed as she waited for him. She could hear noises coming into the block, raised voices, some angry. There was a bit of a scuffle and she resisted leaving the cell block to see what was going on, she could already hear Rick telling Lori to get back into their cell.

Eventually, the voices tapered off and she heard footsteps retreating to various cells. She hadn't heard his voice in the melee below. She didn't know if he'd gotten back inside the prison safely and the wait was killing her.

The cell door was ajar. The sky had just begun to lighten, giving her two, maybe three hours before she'd be expected in the kitchens to begin breakfast. She heard footsteps approach the doorway and Rick strode straight past without spotting her and she heard his cell door close with a small slam.

Lighter, softer footsteps approached and then suddenly, he was there. He seemed a little surprised that the door was open, even more so to see her awake, sitting at the foot of his bed.

"Should be asleep." He muttered to her, crossing the threshold and pushing the door shut, shoving the chair under the handle to keep it closed.

Carol's feet seemed to have a mind of their own as she stood up and lurched forward, hands reaching out for him. She didn't really know what her body intended to do but she stopped herself from doing anything foolish just in the nick of time, choosing to squeeze his shoulder before turning away, hiding her flushed cheeks.

"You worried me." She said softly, smoothing a shirt on the shelf, not that it needed it.

"It was fine. Worryin' for nothin'." He told her dimissively. She heard the thump of his crossbow hitting the floor, followed by the rustle of his jacket as it too landed in a heap. She resisted turning around to pick it up because it always started an argument.

"You were supposed to be back by sundown, of course I would worry." She told him.

"Yeah an' plans change. Game was too good. Got cut off by a herd. Had t'wait it out. But it's fine." He let out a sigh as he slumped onto the bed, tugging his boots off. "You even b'n to sleep yet or what?"

"No." She sighed and returned to her bed, sliding under the blankets. "Doesn't seem much point now."

"Yeah, well I'm here now so you can quit ya fussin'." He pulled the covers back on the bed she had so neatly made just a while ago.

"It wasn't just that." She pulled the covers right up to her neck, turning on her side to face him. "You...you were right about Tyreese."

She watched Daryl's face change as she said the other man's name. His expression had previously been relaxed, expressionless, but now she watched as his forehead wrinkled in confusion, then his gaze grew stormy when he remembered what she was talking about.

"You what?" He sat up abruptly, swung his legs over the bed to sit up straight.

She regretted saying anything at all now. Not when she saw the anger brewing across his features.

"It's alright."

"No it fuckin' ain't. He put his hands on you?" Daryl stood up sharply, lunging for his boots and Carol wrenched her hand free of the blankets to grab him by the wrist, holding him in position.

"I don't need you to fight _all_ my battles, Daryl. He didn't do anything wrong anyway." When he didn't move, she gave his wrist a tug, pulling him down to sit on the edge of her bed, right next to her hip. "He was nothing but a gentleman."

Daryl grunted dismissively at that. "Just yesterday ya tellin' me you ain't lookin' at him like that, now everythin' is just peachy?"

Carol groaned in frustration and let go of his wrist, flopping back against her pillow.

"He's not a bad person, Daryl, for goodness sake! I said I wasn't interested, he apologised. I'm sure it will be a touch awkward for a few days and then it'll be alright again. Don't go rushing off to make this a bigger deal than it already is. It's embarrassing enough for both of us."

Daryl didn't really know what to say to that. Why did she even tell him all this in the first place? Couldn't she how pissed off how even the thought of her and Tyreese made him? And now she wanted him to simply forget about it? He didn't think he could stop his fist from connecting with the other man's gut when he saw him tomorrow.

But aside from the anger, the jealousy, there was something else. Sheer relief. Carol had told Tyreese where to go. Even though she had said as much to him already, he hardly believed it.

She turned to settle into the blankets, shivering whilst she did so. Completely unperturbed by him sitting right next to her, watching her. His hand rested right by her stomach and he wanted to pick it up and lay it on her. Anywhere. Any kind of contact. Just as he lifted it an inch or so from the mattress, hesitating to decide where to put it her hand snatched out, clutching his fingers.

"Get some rest. I need you tomorrow." She told him, eyes fluttering, her fingers threaded their way through his and he let her.

"Yeah?" The word came out thick in his throat.

"Yes. In the watch tower. I'll show you tomorrow. Now go to sleep, finally think I can get some rest too." She murmured and her hand slackened in his.

He gave a sigh before pulling away and spreading out across his own thin mattress. He really did not understand women at all.

TWDTWDTWD

"Well no wonder you're fuckin' bruised to shit." He groused at her, watching her fire off a round at the Walkers stumbling about below. There was no doubt about it, Carol had a pretty good aim. Six walkers in under three minutes, all taken out with a single headshot.

But her grip of the damn gun was all wrong. It was plain as day that Tyreese didn't know fuck all about handling a gun and he was passing on his lack of skill to Carol.

"Hold it like that." He pushed the butt of the gun into her shoulder and Carol winced as it jarred against her bruised collar. "The tighter you hold it to ya, the less you feel the recoil."

His breath was hot on her neck as she aimed and fired again. Even though there was still pain from the bruise, the kickback was instantly less than it had been before, the position felt far more natural.

"It's easy for Tyreese, man is built like a fucking brick shithouse."

He watched her for a few more minutes until the gun jammed. She held it out to him expectantly with a shrug and he sighed.

"He ain't showed you how to clean the damn thing neither?" Now it was plainly obvious that Tyreese had been taking Carol up here to get her alone, because he hadn't taught her shit.

"Daryl. Less moaning about Tyreese, more teaching." She told him snipply, sitting on the stool opposite to watch him pulling the gun apart.

By mid afternoon, Carol felt confident she could pull apart and reassemble every gun they had up in the tower. He had her repeat the exercise so many times she'd lost count and eventually she had to get him to stop just so she didn't lose her mind with the monotony of it.

"You need to do this without even thinkin' 'bout it." He was right at her shoulder, mouth at her ear. "To be able to do it with your eyes closed or with a Walker pressed up against your back."

"Alright, alright." She muttered softly, unclipping the weapon and starting again.

The radio crackled as the rain started up again, Carol thought maybe it was around four in the afternoon. Another hour or so of proper daylight before they had to head in. She would be cooking venison tonight, after Daryl came home with two bucks, both young and they'd spent the best part of the morning together, him skinning the thing, handing over the large chunks of flesh over to her for cut down to size and prepare in herbs and spices for their evening meal.

"Hey, it's T-Dog. Can you get over here, we got a fight breaking out and we could use a hand." The voice was crackly but there was no mistaking the background noise. Shouting and scuffling.

"We're comin'." Daryl threw the radio back onto the counter and picked up the gun that rested against the glass wall. "Come on, bring the gun, just in case."

Carol fitted the last of the bullets into the thing, slinging it over her shoulder before following him down the steps.

As they entered the hall it was hard to see what exactly was going on, every man seemed to be shouting at someone else, but in the middle of it all was an absolutely raging Riley, being held back by both his father and Rick. He was screaming across the room and Carol followed his gaze to find it land on Keith, who was being similarly restrained by Tyreese.

Daryl left her side to go to the centre, presumably to find out what was going on. She quickly spotted Hershel and Maggie either side of Riley, anger on their faces and tried to find Lori, who she eventually spotted across the room, hugging Beth into her side, Carl next to the young girl, handgun curled tightly into his palm.

"What's going on?" She had to yell at the other woman to be heard and Lori winced at the sound of someone's fist connecting with someone else's jaw and there was a roar of disapproval from some of them.

"Keith grabbed Beth. Riley got very upset about it." Lori shouted back and Carol turned to see Daryl lunge at another man whose name she still couldn't remember, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar.

"This is going to end in bloodshed if we don't do something." Carol said desperately as she looked around to pick out the members of their own group. Almost everyone was occupied with holding back someone or defending themselves against someone else. There weren't many guns about but it would only take one sly idiot to rip one out of someone's holster.

Besides, there were plenty of knives on hips. Homemade shanks were about too. She felt panic rise in her throat as she watched Tyreese call for order and not one body obeyed. He was the only one people like Keith and the couple of others who followed him listened to.

"We need to get out of here." Lori hissed.

"We've got to stop this before someone dies." Carol responded and her hand went to the strap of the gun. The idea came to her instantly and she wondered if she had the courage to carry it through. If it went wrong, it could make everything worse.

She spotted Daryl throw a punch and as the guy fell to the floor, he turned away, ready to go for someone else. The man, she thought his name was Adam but she couldn't remember, picked himself up and she saw his hand go to his pocket, hunting for something as his eyes bore a hole into Daryl's back. She decided she had to do it, right then.

Lori gasped as she heard the safety click off on the gun, grabbing Carl by the shoulder and stepping away from her. Carol took a breath as she raised the gun, pointing the barrel into the air.

"Hey!" She called. Not one voice paid a bit of attention. Her finger squeezed the trigger twice and instantly, the baying crowd fell silent, right as the casings hit the floor. She repositioned the gun into her shoulder, aiming it straight towards Adam who was gripping a stubby knife in his hand, arm raised towards Daryl. "Drop it." She ordered.

The knife clattered to the floor and all eyes snapped from Carol to Adam and back again.

"Simon, take Riley somewhere to cool off. Axel, Connor, get Keith back in cell and post guard on him. You two too." Tyreese nodded towards two men that often leered over the other women, men Carol supposed had taken Keith's side. She was relieved that the attention had come away from her. "Alex, Leon, you can cover them." Tyreese pulled a handgun out of his pocket and passed it to Leon, who was unarmed. He kicked Adam's knife across the floor and tapped his boot none too lightly into the man's side. "And you, you better get outta my sight."

As the men began to scatter, Carol flipped the safety back on the gun and pulled it back onto her shoulder, turning to see Beth.

"Did he hurt you?" She asked the sobbing girl, her hands covering her face.

"No." She shuddered out, shaking her head. "He said...he said-" She couldn't seem to get the words out, so horrific they were and her crying resumed.

"This cannot go on." She turned back to Tyreese, who was watching over the room, making sure each man was doing as was necessary.

"It'll be dealt with." Tyreese told her with a wave of his hand.

"Damn right it will." Daryl wiped a hand across his mouth, he'd take a blow to the face, his lip oozed blood. He reached over to pick up his fallen gun.

"Daryl." Rick warned, hand reaching for his own pistol anyway.

"We been puttin' up with shit for way too long, he's gotta go, 'fore he does some real damage." Daryl spat out and Carol saw Hershel behind him, nodding in agreement.

"No." Carol protested. She closed the gap between them, hand going for the barrel of the rifle and pushing it down. "We are not killing anyone."

"Yeah, so who's gonna guard him 24 hours a day? I sure as shit ain't."

The hall was silent for a moment, aside from Beth's soft sobbing. It seemed that Daryl wasn't the only one contemplating killing Keith.

"We don't kill the living." Tyreese rumbled finally. "I'll do the watch myself if I gotta."

"You can't watch forever." Daryl snapped at him, but he lowered the gun anyway.

"Should I be worried about him or you?" Tyreese shot back and Daryl instantly saw red.

"You wanna fuckin' start somethin' here?" He pushed the rifle into Carol's still outstretched hand and took a step closer to the bigger man.

"No, Daryl." Rick stepped between the two men, arms splitting them up. "We all cool off and then we figure out a way to handle this. Properly."

"Come on." Carol muttered and she tugged Daryl by the side of his belt, tugging him towards the kitchen. She figured no-one would be there to help her with dinner but the task would help her calm her thoughts.

Daryl leant against the counter as she worked, teeth chewing on the side of his thumb, deep in thought.

"And what the fuck was that all 'bout, firin' the gun?" He burst out suddenly, the words sounding like he was in the middle of a sentence, but evidently one that had mostly been thought out in his head.

"Nobody was listening." She shrugged as she pushed trays of meat into the oven.

"You could've started a riot." He chastised lightly, but he didn't seem all that cross, she thought. There was almost pride tinging his voice.

"_Started_? There's mutiny in here. It's going to get worse. I can feel it."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna sort that out one way or 'nother." Daryl told her. "He's got it comin'."

"Daryl. Just let it be. It'll get sorted, the right way." Carol left no room for argument. "Now, can you pass me those plates?"

Daryl didn't say anything as he did as she asked but she could tell he was simply avoiding a disagreement with her.

It occurred to her that maybe Keith wouldn't be the only one who would need a 24 hour guard.


	11. Action

Author's Notes: Thank you very much for your reads and reviews!

TWDTWDTWD

"Go to bed." He growled at her from his spot, slumped against the wall, right at the entryway to their floor of cells, his gun resting across his knees.

"I'll wait for you." Carol told him, she tugged the blankets around her, shifting to sit next to him, her legs crossed.

"You're gonna be waitin' awhile, cause I'm here til two. Only me and the old man on tonight." He told her. "I ain't gonna go and blow that bastard's brain out if that's what you're hangin' around for."

Carol snorted dismissively. "Not right now, maybe."

"You think they're all gonna keep watch on him forever? It ain't gonna work. He's a timebomb."

"Killing him isn't the answer." She replied softly, hand going to the gun at his knees.

"So, you wanna just wait til he kills Beth? Lori? You? Or worse, he might not kill ya, but he'll let you live with whatever shit he puts on you. He needs to go."

Carol sighed. "There's got to be another way. You saw what this did to our group, when it was down to deciding Randall's fate. You want to take that responsibility on? Live with that?"

"I'd rather live knowin' that I've kept you safe. Don't go thinkin' I'd feel any guilt over him, cause I sure as fuck wouldn't feel anythin'." He told her firmly.

Carol fell silent at that. She disagreed of course, because Daryl was many things, not all of them good, but he wasn't evil. He wasn't a murderer. Surely taking the life of someone, even as someone as awful as Keith, it would hurt Daryl in some way.

She shivered again and she was reminded of what she intended to say to him when she sat beside him.

"We need more clothes. Warmer things. Lori needs some stuff too."

"There's a whole store cupboard of clothes downstairs. Plenty of blue jumpsuits goin'."

"I don't want to wear those things." She muttered.

"Beggars ain't got time to be choosers." He smirked at her.

Carol's hand trailed from where it gripped the gun to brush over the hole in the knee of his jeans, fingers tracing the edges of the worn fabric. "You going to wear those things when everything you own falls apart?"

Daryl made a noise that suggested he would not and Carol let out a quiet laugh.

"I was thinking, we could go out, look for some. Be nice to get out of this place for a bit." She suggested, hand stopping it's circles on his knee to rest, open palmed.

"You mean keep me away from Keith?"

"No." She denied hotly. "Well, not just because of that. How many times am I going to have to hit my targets thirty foot in the air? I need to get some real practice in."

"You won't be usin' a gun for that kinda shit. It's hand to hand. You ready for that?"

Carol shrugged. "You say all the time, that this place, it isn't really safe. So why hold out any longer? May as well learn whilst there's the time. Things could change in a flash."

Daryl seemed to consider this for a moment, his gazed fixed on her hand, resting lightly on his knee. Finally, he gave a small nod. "Not just me and you. Glenn too. Maggie, maybe. Don't know the area well enough yet. See what Rick says tomorrow."

"Alright."

"Then maybe ya can quit followin' me all over the damn place." He added in a mumble, leaning his head back to rest against the cold concrete wall.

"I just don't want you to do something you might regret later on." She lifted her hand from his leg to rub her eyes wearily.

"Well you gonna _regret _not goin' to bed at this rate." He told her, giving her a nudge.

"I'll wait. Too cold anyway." Carol tugged the blankets a little closer, drawing her knees to her chest.

Daryl sighed and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was cold, shivering lightly. He supposed this was his cue to wrap his arm around her, pull her close and he wanted to. He did want to. Especially after their conversation in the early hours of that morning. That conversation, where she said she wasn't interested in Tyreese, that filled him with a rush of warmth, a feeling he couldn't name.

But hugging was not something that Daryl Dixon would do. She'd probably be horrified anyway. So instead, he settled for dropping the gun to the floor on his free side and shuffled a little closer to her, closing the the small gap between them.

Carol turned and gave him a soft smile, bumping her knee softly against his.

TWDTWDTWD

There were maps everywhere and looking at them made Carol feel like she was looking at hieroglyphics. They meant nothing. She couldn't even name the town she was in. Her world consisted solely of the prison.

Simon sat with Daryl and Glenn at the table as they poured over the maps. After quarter of an hour, Carol shook her head and stood up, leaving them to it, going off to make packed lunches.

"Just head east. Stay away from anywhere near Woodbury. I mean it, well away." Simon told them, Carol could see his hand waving over a spot on the map from her position at the metal counter.

"What, it's overrun?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah, with the living. Woodbury is a survivor's camp. From what we hear. But...I don't know. There's something not right about it. Before we came here, we heard of people who went in, intending to come back for their friends and...well, never showing up again. I've seen the trucks they use. Some heavy shit. But they ain't government, no way. They call the leader the Governor. Just stay away."

"Some reason, you ain't tellin' us about this before?" Daryl asked, standing upright, hand on his hip. "Let us make up our own mind on this?"

Simon opened his mouth, considering his answer but before he could speak he was interrupted.

"Because we wanted you to come here." The men at the table turned around to see Tyreese standing behind them, Rick at his side. "We needed the manpower. And Woodbury isn't the safe haven it's made out to be. We don't know much about it, but that we do know for sure. People don't leave Woodbury."

"They go off their land? Scout out as far as here?" Rick asked, stepping forward to stand over the maps.

Tyreese shook his head. "Not that we know of. It's fifteen miles away to their perimeters. We only ever go scavenging in the other direction."

Rick looked to Daryl for a moment before giving him the nod.

"Just take care." He told him, hand on hip before turning back to the kitchen. "You look after yourself today." He murmured to Carol before nabbing a bottle of water and leaving again.

The journey was not altogether unpleasant. The roads were clear enough that the truck had enough speed to avoid having to stop for Walker interruption. Glenn took the wheel, much to Daryl's chargrin, although Carol and Maggie found it most amusing.

"Glenn, you asshole, you wanna get us killed before we even get in front of some Geeks?" He growled, smacking his hand across Glenn's shoulder. The younger man _did_ drive too fast, Carol thought and he had to swerve to avoid debris on the abandoned road, causing them to lurch from one side of the truck to the other.

"It's a nice truck! The other car doesn't even hit sixty!" Glenn protested.

"Yeah and if you fuck this truck up, you'll be doin' sixty through the fuckin' windscreen!"

"You two are beginnin' to sound like my grandma and pops y'know." Maggie drawled from the rear, idly picking at a hangnail.

Carol held back a snigger as Daryl made a low noise in his throat, turning towards the window in a manner that suggested he was on the verge of a tantrum.

Eventually, they hit the town Simon had promised was the least Walker riddled and where there was the most to take.

Carol fingered the knife at her hip nervously, slung the gun over her shoulder and followed Glenn's lead, Daryl right behind her shoulder.

She'd never been involved in things like this, not really. It was exhilarating, she thought as she darted up an emergency exit with Maggie, throwing her weight into a door that seemed to have jammed shut.

It burst open and Maggie went in first, Carol holding the flashlight to allow them to see. She could hear Glenn and Daryl below, scuffling to take out the strays that had caught up with them.

Maggie let out a shriek as a rotting figure lurched forward, raising her bolo to throw it in the skull of the thing as it groaned and it fell quickly. Carol threw the beam of light through the room checking every corner from top to bottom.

"Clear." She called back to the men, hearing their footsteps on the metal staircase.

"Come on." Daryl pushed through to the next door, his own flashlight resting atop his raised crossbow.

They trailed back down a set of internal stairs of the store and into the stockroom. Daryl was pushing through the room to get to the storefront and Carol stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait." She flashed the light around. "This stuff is the old winter stock." Her fingers brushed a rail with plaid shirts, the kind with fleece lining them.

"Yeah, I got waterproof coats and stuff over here." Maggie called out from the opposite side of the room.

"Let's get this shit first." Daryl check the store door before shouldering the bow and pulling a large duffle bag from it's plastic packaging.

They were silent for awhile, Daryl and Glenn stuffing randomly into the bags, with Maggie and Carol tutting behind them, pulling out the useless things and folding the rest to make full use of the space they had.

"Don't go gettin' boots for everyone." Daryl gripped at her, tugging a pair of size 13's from her hand and dropping them to the floor.

"I'm sure they'll get used." Carol waited for him to turn his back before stuffing them into the bag, giving an observing Glenn a look that suggested he best say nothing.

"The inmates can get their own, most of 'em are lazy bastards anyhow." Daryl told her, holding out a pair of boots in her direction. "Reckon they're 'bout your size?"

"Let's find out." Carol took them from him and sat herself on the floor, tugging off her worn shoes, so worn they always seemed damp and began pulling on a boot.

"What the hell ya doin'?"

"It's less to carry!" She argued, lacing them up quickly. She stood up and twisted her feet experimentally, kicking her other shoes aside. "They're perfect."

Before anyone could say anymore, there was a thump on the door nearest to them, the one leading out to the store, followed by the sound of nails scratching on metal.

"Let's get out of here." Glenn picked up a bag, swinging it over his shoulder, and cocking his gun.

Glenn took the front, Daryl the rear and they marched as fast they could back the way they came. The bag was heavy, pulling on her shoulder muscles as she pounded up the stairs to the emergency exit but Carol tried not to show the strain in front of Daryl, lest she receive a round of "I told you so's". She heard a crash inside the building, she guessed the Walkers inside had broken down the door.

Glenn lurched to a stop at the top of the emergency exit, causing them all to bump into each other.

"Come on Glenn, they've bust the door inside, man." Daryl yelled, but he took a step back when he saw the scene at the bottom of the stairs.

There were Walkers. Eight of them by Carol's count, sniffing around the truck, moaning as they caught sight of a human meal and fighting past each other to get to the steps.

"Use the bags as battering rams." Maggie quickly suggested, pulling hers from her shoulders. Glenn threw his down the steps as the creatures made it half way up and it sent several of them sliding back down, moans picking up as they did so.

Daryl tossed his over the side of the steps, some ten foot up and it fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Carol pulled out her knife, although she wasn't sure she was ready to use it.

"Hold this." Daryl shoved his crossbow into her arms and climbed over the railing.

"You'll break your neck!" She cried at him, struggling to keep hold of the heavy weight in her arms and on her back. Daryl didn't bother to respond as hung over the edge, letting go and falling to the ground, landing on both feet.

"Bow!" He ordered her quickly and Carol leant over as far as she dared, the crossbow dangling from one arm by it's strap.

There was a gasping noise from behind her and she let out a moan of panic. "Hurry!" She gasped at Daryl, not wanting to drop the thing and risk breaking it.

Eventually he got his grip on it and Carol felt a foul, hot breath on her neck. The knife in her hand seemed to move without her conscious thought, her hand flying through the air to land in the first bit of flesh she could reach, the thing's neck. Carol pushed it back against the door frame, trapping it there as she yanked the knife free. It was tough to pull out and the Walker pushed forward with Carol gripping it's jaw to stop it's teeth from touching her own skin.

She bumped against the railing just as the tip of the knife came free and she twisted to force the Walker back into the railings, plunging the knife into it's soft skull, right to the hilt. She tugged it free, pushing the creature over the edge of the railing, not even waiting to see where it fell before turning back to the steps.

Maggie and Glenn were half way down, climbing over rotten corpses, adding to them with every step downward. Daryl was on the other side of the crowd, taking them out from behind.

She could hear more groaning from behind her and urged the others forward, she stepped on a forearm and shrieked when it moved under her. She pulled the gun from her shoulder, searching for the head of the body, and snaked the gun between Maggie and Glenn's legs to slam the butt down into it's face, sending blood splattering up her forearms and over Glenn's jeans.

"Come on, you lot!" Daryl growled, pulling arrows out of his targets, just as Glenn felled the last one. He gripped Caryl by the bag on her back, tearing it from her to chuck it into the truck bed. Glenn and Maggie hopped in the front, starting the ignition as Walkers poured through the emergency exit door and Daryl pushed Carol roughly into the backseat, clambering in after her before she had a chance to shuffle along for him.

"Go!" He yelled and Glenn didn't hesitate, tyres squealing as he peeled off, back onto the road.

Carol slumped across the door frame, wearily wiping her bloody arms on her pant legs. Exhilarated but exhausted, she wonder how the hell she was going to hold up running through the other shops they needed to hit before they headed back.

TWDTWDTWD

She did hold up and she allowed herself to feel proud that she had done so. The truck was full, clothes, food, a little fuel and batteries. All four of them were grinning, even Daryl, but that was probably because he'd gotten hold of two bottles of Southern Comfort and threatened them all with terrible things if they even dared to tell anyone else about them. The reward would be that they could share.

It was almost nightfall by the time they got back and she found herself eager to get a cup of hot chocolate and head to bed. There were new flannel pajamas in those bags with her name on them.

Tyreese, T-Dog and Alex greeted them at the door, helping them tug the bags through. Carol did not miss the way Tyreese grinned at her, tipping his head in greeting as he lifted the bag effortlessly from her hands. Daryl didn't miss it either, she noticed, elbowing his way past the man aggressively to stomp down the passageway.

She took a box of food through the dimly lit mess hall. It was empty, a rare occurrence, but there were plenty of them help carry their spoils in, taking them to the cells where they stored most things and she could hear the faint echoes of men discussing who wanted what.

She spotted light under the door to the kitchens and she was glad for whoever was careless enough to leave a lantern on, both her hands were full and even though the prison was safe, it still felt creepy to walk through the darkness, especially without a hand available to reach a weapon.

Carol pushed the door open with her behind, struggling with the heavy box and as she turned to face forward she froze on the spot.

Beth, lovely, sweet Beth was bent over the steel island counter, topless from the waist up, a rag stuffed in her mouth and tears streaming down her face. Behind her, Keith was clutching her around the stomach, dirty fingernails marring her peachy soft skin. His other hand was gripping a bread knife, pressed flush to the young girl's exposed throat.

When Beth spotted Carol her eyes widened, hand reaching out for her, fingers flexing uselessly in desperation and Carol lurched forward, bile rising in her throat as she dropped the box to the floor with a crash, flour exploding all over.

"Stop!" Keith ordered in a low growl. "You stop right there, or you make a single sound, I'll take her head clean off."


	12. Defend

Author's Notes: Thank you very much everyone, much obliged!

Daryl's opinion on the bra sizing system is a direct quote from my boyfriend, who has never once attempted to buy me underwear, haha!

For Kaye, Happy Birthday!

TWDTWDTWD

"I swear to God, I will fuckin' slit her throat and then I'll come for you." Keith pressed the knife a little deeper into Beth's skin and she cried in both pain and fear. "You shut those pretty lips now, Bethy darlin'."

"You can't get away with this, you know." Carol told him in a whisper. "Your guard will notice you've gone, if they haven't already."

"I _am _gettin' away with it, you stupid bitch." He jeered, lifting his hand from Beth's stomach to cup her breast roughly.

"They'll kill you. They find you now, it's over. I stopped Daryl from killing you yesterday. I won't be able to do that again. He won't listen to me now." Carol stepped over the mess from the box on the floor, inching her way closer to the pair across the way.

She didn't have anything in mind, her gun was back with Daryl and she doubted she'd be able to use it before he pressed the knife to Beth anyway but she knew she had to do something. Carol remembered the times she had her body violated like this, not from a stranger but from her own husband and she prayed silently that she would be able to stop Beth from enduring the same torture.

"You think I can't fight off your damned hillybilly boyfriend? Honey, I was in here for _life_. You don't get life for tax evasion. Murder one, baby, rape and kidnap."

Beth bucked underneath him at his frank admission, foot kicking out uselessly at his knees and Keith just laughed at her.

"Now, that knife." He nodded to the one sheathed at Carol's hip. "Slide it over on the floor. Don't try anythin'."

Carol fingered the hilt of the knife, hesitant to give up her only weapon and as the tip came free from it's leather casing, she realised it wasn't her _only_ weapon. Her mind flashed back to the day Daryl gave her the blade, telling her it was only for show. She had the flick knife. She carried that in her pocket where ever she went now, it's heavy weight was familiar. It had been useful, if not for the purpose Daryl intended it for, but for around and about the kitchen, from cutting loose threads from clothing, to tearing open cartons of juice.

She knelt down slowly, so as not to cause alarm, squatting and sliding the knife along the floor, slow enough so it didn't reach them, just out of his reach. He would have to move if he wanted it. Keith made a snort of derision at her lame attempt, tightening his hold on Beth.

"Your gun? I heard you tote one around these days."

Carol shook her head quickly. "Daryl brought it in."

"Show me your waistband." He ordered.

"You think I can fit a machine gun up there?" She asked incredulously but she regretted the flash of defiance quickly and brought her hands to the hem of her shirt to lift it just past her waistband. "See?"

"Right, so this how it goes. We're all gonna take a trip. You're gonna take me to the watchtower, get us a couple of guns. Then you can be the Walker bait for me and my beauty Beth here, whilst we grab a truck and then we'll be on our sweet way."

Carol took a step forward, trying to inch her way closer. "You think we'll go unnoticed? Daryl watches me like a hawk. Tyreese too. And Beth's got her family, Riley as well. We'll not even get out the door."

"Well, that ain't my problem you see Carol, it's yours. You are gonna get us out of here, 'cause if you don't, Beth is gonna die." Keith relinquished his grip on Beth, shoving her to the side to reach for Carol's discarded knife.

Carol lunged forward to catch her as the young girl skidded across the floor, her upper half tumbling off the steel counter. She trembled furiously as Carol pulled her upright, tucking her half-naked form behind her.

"Just let her go. I'll take her place." Carol offered. Of course she wanted nothing less than to be subjected to anything Keith had in mind, but she'd hoped if he did let Beth go, the girl could run for help.

He scoffed, walking towards them with purpose. "Why would I want the old cow when I can have the young, tender calf?" He sniggered at his own joke, leaning forward and running a hand down Carol's arm. "But then, if you survive bein' bait, I ain't adverse to widenin' my horizons." His hand rested on Carol's wrist, his grip vice like. "It's been a long time for me, but I reckon I could work up my stamina to take both of you." Carol shuddered under his touch, attempting to jerk her arm away.

"Beth won't make it out of here. She's not made for people like you. She won't cope." Carol muttered. It was true, even if she was hesitant to say the words in front of Beth herself. The girl was fragile and being treated like a piece of meat by Keith would kill her, Carol was sure of it.

"And you are?" Keith tilted his head and looked at her curiously. "I suppose you think you've met 'people like me' before?"

Carol nodded, finally freeing her wrist. Anything to keep the conversation going, to keep him from getting them outside the building. It felt like she'd been down in the kitchen for hours.

"He's dead." The words were ambigious, deliberately so.

"Don't think for a minute I'll end up the same way, sweetheart." With that, he raised his arm, striking Carol across the face with a stinging slap that pierced the air, echoing off the metal surfaces.

She couldn't scream, she couldn't cry. The pain was sharp and unexpected, he had been so calm, she hadn't expected such a violent act. Her hand whipped up to her cheek, clutching the reddened skin as if it would take the pain away.

"Remember who you fuckin' are, you bitch. Bait. Just the fuckin' bait." He chose to grip Carol by the arm this time, pushing her forward. "Now move." He nodded towards the door and Beth led the way, arms folded over her goosepimpled flesh, trying to maintain some dignity even through her tears.

She was two steps ahead of Carol, who was gripped tight by the man, his sweaty stench filling her nostrils and making her stomach turn. He obviously thought her to be the bigger threat and for Beth to submit to him due to blind fear.

His eyes were everywhere, flitting from door to windows and back again, but there was not a soul in sight and she wondered why. It was never this quiet in this room, not unless it was the dead of night.

Carol craned her neck around, looking to the door she'd come in through, hoping to see movement, light, _something_.

"Don't bother wishin' on help. Got my best boys keepin' everybody distracted."

"Who?" Carol asked sharply, but she knew in her heart. The two men who'd always been hanging around with Keith, the ones who'd been hauled off with him when he touched Beth previously.

"Don't you worry about that, they took care of that old fool Axel good and nice. Gonna lead your redneck and the others a nice merry dance across the prison lookin' for little old me." He swung a door open, shoving Carol through it and looking expectantly at Beth, who stood stock still behind him.

Her eyes were wide, her foot twitched on the spot and Carol could see the girl was almost at breaking point. She hadn't said a single word since Carol had found her.

"Bethy, doll, you gotta follow me, or I'm gonna kill Carol." He waved Carol's knife dangerously close to her face, pulling her closer to him to demonstrate his point.

Beth wavered, eyes following the blade. Carol slide her hand to her pocket, feeling for the flick knife. With her free hand, she brought her fingers to clasp Keith's forearm, wrapped tight around her bicep.

"Beth." She breathed and the girl's eyes snapped to her's. "Run!"

Beth did not need to be told twice, she turned on her heel and sped out of there as Carol tightened her grip on Keith, stopping him from starting after the girl immediately. He roared after her in anger, his fingers tearing his fingers from Carol's bicep and grasping her shirt front, he slammed her into the wall, the blade of her knife pointed right at the hollow of her throat.

"You fuckin' bitch." He spat at her. "You wait till we're outta here. It's gonna hurt. I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna wish I killed you. You're gonna learn about what it is to fuck with me."

The tip of the blade pressed a little deeper into her skin and she wasn't sure if it had cut her or not. His mouth was pressed against her cheek, his teeth scraping against her skin as he spoke.

Her fingers curled tighter around the knife in her pocket and she braced herself to draw it out, for it was now or never.

TWDTWDTWD

Fuck stupid Tyreese. Asshole. Giving Carol a big ass smile when she'd said she wasn't interested? If it hadn't been for the fact that they had to unload the truck and get in quickly, he'd've socked the big guy one. It probably would hurt him more than Tyreese but it would make him feel a little better.

He'd followed one of the others down to the cells where they stored most junk, the kind of cells that still locked with keys. Tyreese and Rick were the only ones with keys, to stop untrustworthy residents getting their paws on things that they had no business looking at.

Maggie came with the clothes, Lori close behind with Carl, pulling out things for specific people and he took a few items for himself and Carol, because she always seemed to be somewhere else when the clothes were shared out. He snatched the flannel pajamas he'd seen her swoon over earlier that day as well as a fleece lined jacket each.

His hand hovered over the bag that contained socks and underwear. He picked out some for himself but he had absolutely no clue when it came to Carol. Why couldn't they just be labelled S, M or L like men's clothes? He could see the label of a bra poking out of the top of the bag and his stomach churned. What the hell did 34C mean? Why did they need numbers _and_ letters to tell you what size they were? It was a system designed to fuck with the heads of men.

He turned away from the bag to pick up another shirt, she'd have to get her own and be damned if she ended up with a 34C bra, whatever the hell that meant.

"Here." Lori turned to him with a stack of lacy fabric in her hand, putting them on top of his shirt. "For Carol." They had to be fucking pink. The cups of the topmost bra seemed to be like fucking beacons and he growled under his breath, pulling another shirt over the top to disguise them, lest somebody see and give him a ribbing about it.

He was just finishing up, locking the cell behind Lori to hand the key back to Rick when he head the shouts.

"He's gotten out!" Connor came yelling down the corridor. "The other two have disappeared too, they attacked Axel!"

"Fuck!" Daryl dropped the bundle in his arms, hand fumbling for the radio attached to his belt. "Rick, what's goin' on?" He bellowed into the radio, picking up his crossbow.

"Axel's in a bad way, get everyone up to our cells, T-Dog and Hershel are up there already but we need to get a head count." Rick crackled back seconds later, sounding out of breath. "Are Lori and Carl up with you?"

"Yeah, Maggie and Connor can take 'em back upstairs. Where's Carol and Beth?"

There was a pause for a second and he heard Maggie's sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"I haven't seen Beth for a while and I last saw Carol when she was emptying the truck." Rick hadn't even finished speaking before Maggie dropped her belongings and pulled out her knife.

"I'm goin' to find her." She told him, pushing past them all to get out.

"No, you fuckin' ain't." Daryl grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. "You get Lori and Carl upstairs and you fuckin' stay there."

"No, I am goin' to get my sister -"

"Do as ya fuckin' told, Maggie. Keith is after women and the last thing we need is another one unaccounted for. Connor, take them up, keep 'em there." He tossed the radio to the other man who caught it deftly. "Radio in to the others when you get 'em comin' in, need to keep track of everyone as they turn up."

Connor nodded. Maggie looked as though she might protest some more but he shot her another glare before loading up his bow and tearing out of there.

He had no clue where Beth would be. He hadn't seen her that day, hadn't really seen her since the day Keith tried to grab her. But he had seen Carol unloading the truck. He cursed at his own stupidity because instead of storming off in a temper, he should've paid attention to what she was carrying and where she was taking it.

It hadn't been clothes. He knew they were all in the cell. The weapons had gone straight to the watch tower with Glenn and Simon and he knew that Simon had taken charge of the small amount of medicine they'd found. That only really left food.

The kitchens. She had to have gone to the kitchens. He turned his pace into a jog, keeping a ear out for any other sounds. He was only one corridor away when he collided into Riley, who was sprinting in the opposite direction.

"I can't find Beth." He puffed out furiously, hands twisting his gun around nervously.

"Where's the others?"

"Tyreese is checking the cells. Simon and Glenn are out in the watch tower but I can't find her anywhere!" Riley was panicking now, voice getting shriller.

"Someone been to the offices?" He pulled Riley along with him as he continued his way to the mess hall.

"I don't know. I swear, if he touches her again, I am gonna kill him...I-"

"Get in line, kid." Daryl growled as he swung open the door to the cafeteria.

It was empty. Eerily quiet. There was a faint light coming from under the door to the kitchen and he nodded at Riley to follow him. As he came closer he spotted the white tracks that led from the kitchen and he knelt down to take a closer look.

Three sets of prints. Two smaller, definitely female. One larger. And he was betting he knew who's they were.

"They've gone. Check the kitchen anyway." Daryl followed the tracks until they tapered off, touching one and rubbing the white substance between his fingers. Flour. He stood up as Riley came barrelling out of the kitchen, clutching something in his hand.

"It's Beth's shirt." Riley's voice was trembling as he held out the brown button down, the front torn.

Daryl didn't say anything as he turned to the direction the foot prints led off to. Just as he turned to ask the boy something he heard footstep pounding down the corridor, sneakers squeaking as whoever owned them panted their way along. He raised his crossbow towards the door as Beth came tumbling through. She was topless, running at a frenzied pace and through her tears she didn't seem to see them, her gaze focused on the door up ahead.

Riley started forward first, Beth jumped as she spotted him, her hand reaching out and she slumped into a heap before he could grab hold of her.

"He's-he's got Carol." She choked out as Riley's arm circled her waist. Daryl did not wait to hear anymore before running through the door.

TWDTWDTWD

Carol yanked the knife out of her pocket at lightening speed, pressing the switch and the knife flew out and as it locked straight she plunged it into Keith without another thought. It landed just under his shoulder, the blade struggling against the muscle that it had to cut through.

He roared out in pain, the knife at her neck dropping to the floor. She attempted to pull the blade free but he bucked in agony and her fingers lost it's grip. She used his pain as a distraction, tearing his fingers from her shirt front and pushing him away. He stumbled a couple of steps back, hand scrabbling to try and reach the handle of the knife lodged in his back and she snatched her knife up from the floor.

Keith fell to his knees, still writhing in agony and Carol inched over to him, standing over him, knife in hand. She wanted to use it. Like she had on Walkers, she wanted to sink the blade into his brain, right to the hilt.

In the moment it took her to decide whether or not she should just make a run for it, she heard a pounding down the corridor and she turned to see Daryl racing towards her.

She wasn't the only one who spotted him and Keith was pulling himself up against the wall, edging away from them.

Daryl yanked Carol awake from him pushing her behind his own body. "You hurt?"

She shook her head. She looked down at her hands to see them shaking profusely. There were more voices behind her and Daryl pushed her backwards, towards them.

"Stupid fuckin' bitch." Keith tried to snarl, but to Carol's ears it sounded like a whimper.

"Shut up, you fuck." Daryl kicked his boot into Keith's side, forcing him back to the ground. Carol laid a hand on his arm, he had his crossbow poised, aimed at Keith's head.

She knelt down, squatting beside Keith's head. "I won't stop him now." She whispered softly. Keith didn't look so frightening now, she thought. Pathetic, really. She stood up straight and gave Daryl's wrist a gentle squeeze. He met her eyes with a gaze she couldn't quite decipher and Carol turned away from the scene, walking towards the oncoming cavelry.

She closed her eyes as she heard the whip of an arrow through the air, hitting flesh and causing it's target to hit the ground with a thunk.


	13. More

Author's Notes: Thank you for the fabulous reads and reviews. Been catching up on them today and I genuinely am very appreciative of them!

TWDTWDTWD

The men swallowed into their number as she strode purposely towards them, checking to make sure she was alright. She could do nothing but nod, pushing past to get to the rear of them.

"You find the other two?" She heard Daryl approach the men, casually almost, as if he had not killed another man.

"They took their chances in the yard." Rick shook his head in disbelief. "Glenn's watching them. They're trying to make a run for the gates, last we heard."

"Had to do it." Daryl grunted at the group, pushing past them to reach Carol. "Here." He nudged her, passing her flick knife. He'd pushed it shut, but she could still see the blood - Keith's blood - coating the hinge where the hilt met the blade.

She took it between forefinger and thumb reluctantly and pushed it straight into her pocket. "I'm going to find Beth." She told him.

Daryl fell into pace beside her, ignoring the men behind her who were crowding around Keith's prone form. "You hurt?" He asked, words barely a whisper.

"No. Didn't get that far. Beth though...I'm not sure." She picked up her pace, practically sprinting up the metal staircase to their floor. She stopped at the top and Daryl barrelled into her, not having expected her to suddenly cease moving. "You can go back down with the others. Take care of the other two."

"Let the Walkers take care of them." He told her, pushing her gently into the corridor. She could hear voices now, low and soothing.

"Oh, Carol!" Lori cried out, rushing from her spot behind Beth to hug Carol. "Are you alright?"

Carol watched from over Lori's shoulder as Beth was led into her cell by Maggie and Riley.

"I'm fine, honestly. He didn't do anything to me." She finally managed to choke out. She pried Lori's fingers from around her neck, moving closer to the cluster of people further down the corridor. "Where's the others? Hershel? Glenn?"

"Hershel's gone to tend to Axel, think he got beat up pretty bad but we have to wait for Simon to get back to get to the first aid supplies. Glenn's in the watch tower with him. You seen Rick?"

"He's with Keith's body." Daryl muttered, eyeing Carol as she went into their cell.

"Body?" T-Dog stood up, hand running over his rifle.

Daryl ripped his eyes from the cell door, looking at the man standing in front of him. T-Dog was staring at the bloody arrow he still held limp in his hand.

"Yeah. Body. It's done." He turned away from the stares. Shock? Disgust? Admiration? He couldn't really tell. He didn't really care what they thought. What anyone thought. Maybe Carol, he cared about what she thought. But he didn't think she'd still be against what he wanted to do. What he _had_ done. Not after that.

He did what had to be done. Keith could not be trusted. Keith would've gotten at least one of their number killed. He stood by what he'd told Carol, he didn't feel any guilt at all.

She came out clutching a spare shirt and a towel, a toiletry bag in her hands. "I need to wash up." She brushed past him to go back down the stairs, where the showers were. There weren't many that worked, just two and nobody got to have one everyday. The women usually went together but he figured today she need to wash herself of Keith's blood, literally and figuratively.

"Wait. Wait until we know about those other two." He grabbed her by the forearm and she just looked up at him with a troubled expression.

"They're outside. I need to go now. I've got my knife. It's fine." She told him firmly, shrugging free and stepping away quickly, her pace a brisk march.

He hesitated. He wanted to go with her, just make sure she was alright. But if he was down there, he wouldn't be up on the ground, ready to jump into action if so required. He wasn't about to shirk any dirty work if it needed doing.

"Go." Lori nudged him, nodding to the empty doorway. "I'll bring the clean clothes down to her. If we need you, someone will let you know."

He nodded tersely to Lori, pounding down the staircase.

The water was already running by the time he caught up with her and he could see her clothes in a sodden heap on the tiled floor just under the stall curtain. Her towel and shirt were tossed over the top of the curtain.

He rapped his knuckes on the side of the stall. "'S just me." He mumbled, jerking the rag from his back pocket before sitting across the way, settling the bow down to be cleaned whilst he waited.

She didn't respond. Didn't stop whatever she was doing in there. Drowning probably. He'd be more concerned if he didn't have the view he had from his position on the floor. The curtain stopped at her calves, he could see her bare feet twisting this way and that in the pool of water rushing at her feet.

He was watching her as she began the rhythmic process of shaving her legs, lathering up the soap and running her bubbly palms over her skin.

The door creaked open and he tore his eyes away quickly. "Here." Lori passed him the pile of clothing and he recognised some of them as being for him. "They got away. The other two. They made it through the yard."

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath.

Lori shrugged. "They're unarmed. They'll probably get bit before they can even find a vehicle. Everyone's heading up to bed. I'll put something to eat in your cell, you must both be starving."

She didn't wait for a response, not that he was entirely certain about what he wanted to say, but he figured some sort of gratitude was appropriate.

Carol didn't appear to have heard Lori come in, or at least made no mention of it and when his gaze fell on his own clothes, stacked under that stupid lacy pink underwear set he decided he could clean up a little himself whilst he waited.

He didn't bother with a proper shower, she'd be in there for at least twenty minutes and figured she had to be almost done. He kicked his shoes aside and stripped his jeans off, tugging on the clean underwear and a pair of khakis at breakneck speed, before taking his time to change his socks and retie his shoes.

He peeled off his shirt, grubby and stiff with sweat and dirt. The women still washed his clothes, all of their clothes, but he had been reduced to two shirts and it meant that they always ended up filthy for days on end.

He balled it up and soaked it under the tap, rubbing a bar of soap through it and used it to clean his upper half, scrubbing at his torso and arms.

"Dammit!" Carol's curse echoed off the walls, making him jump slightly. He saw the towel get dragged over the curtain and heard the water shut off.

"You a'right?" He asked, dropping his wet shirt and moving to stand right behind the curtain. There was no answer. "Carol, I'm openin' the fuckin' curtain." He told her impatiently and he tugged it open before letting her answer, bracing himself for a shriek of shock.

She had her back to him, the towel clutched around her but her head was over one shoulder, hand clutching just behind the top of her knee.

"What's wrong?"

She pulled her hand away and he took in a sharp breath when he saw it come away covered in red.

"Cut myself on the razor." Carol told me and she shook her head as if coming out of a daydream. "What are you doing? I'm fine."

He squatted down behind her, picking up her wet shirt from the floor and squeezing the excess water from it before batting her hand away from a thigh and pressing the fabric to the cut.

"It's _fine_. Just my stupid, shaking hands." She insisted, but she put her hand against the stall to stop herself from losing her balance as Daryl began moping up the trail of blood.

"Thought you were 'bout ready to grow a fin and swim on outta here." He told her, wiping a droplet of blood that had almost made it to her ankle.

"Just needed some time. Been a long day." Carol sighed, clutching the towel closer to her chest.

"Ya did good today. Out in town." He told her as he finished up, standing upright.

"Seems like a million years ago now."

"And tonight. Ya did good tonight too." He dropped the shirt back into the heap on the floor, taking a step back. They were just inches apart, crammed together in the tiny stall and he remembered suddenly that she was standing there, naked but for the small towel and he still hadn't got dressed properly.

She nodded and he dragged his eyes up to her face, her eyes were shining with what he suspected were probably tears.

"I'm glad you did...what you did. I don't think I could've done it. I mean...I wanted to, I think...I don't even know." She shook her head, taking a deep breath. She lifted her hand, bringing it to rest on his chest. "Just...thank you."

He shrugged, unsure of what to say. She seemed on the brink of a crying spell and although he didn't blame her, today had been a hell of a day for all them, least of all someone who had never done any of this crap before, he didn't want to make it worse. He didn't think he could handle crying. Especially Carol crying.

Carol's eyes searched his face, seeking out what, he didn't know and then suddenly, she was leaning into him, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her mouth against his.

Her lips were feather soft, moving almost imperceptibly against his and he froze, unable to react at all. Her eyes were shut and she shifted her hand from his chest to his hip, resting on his waistband, her thumb stroking the bare skin above it.

It took a few seconds, once she realised he didn't respond and she pulled away slightly and he could feel the question in her posture, the unspoken _why_.

But for him, the question was why not? It wasn't taking advantage. She was upset and tired for sure, but not hysterical. She knew her own mind. He hadn't really thought about doing anything like kissing her, because he couldn't afford to think like that. Sure, kissing was nice, something he wanted to do, but it was hardly on his list of priorities like staying alive or killing rapists were.

Before she could take a step back, mistake his hesitancy for rejection, he gripped her bicep, holding her there and he covered her lips with her own.

She sighed into his mouth as he pulled her flush against him, his hands snaking around her back, one fisting at the towel she still clutched to herself, the other curling around her neck.

He fought back his desire to be coarse with her. To push her mouth open and swirl his tongue with hers, to nip at her skin with his teeth. She was soft, delicate and her movements reflected that. Gentle, breathy kisses, her tongue running inside his mouth almost lazily.

He pressed her right up against the stall and she released the towel for him to press his chest directly on hers, it slipped to her waist but got trapped between their bodies and she used her now free hand to run a trail up and down his spine, fingers drumming a rhythm as they worked.

He could feel himself getting hard and unless he could fuck her right there and then against the shower stall he decided it had to stop, or else he would come in his pants. She was too good for some sort of fumble against a wet wall anyway.

He pulled his lips away and she let out a little moan as he leant his forehead against her shoulder, still damp from her shower.

"I gotta stop before you drive me crazy." He mumbled into her skin and Carol wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

She could feel him against her hip, his hardness pressing into her skin, even through the towel and it was exciting to know that her kisses, her body pressed against his, they could could that.

He pressed a kiss against her collarbone, the one that forever seemed to be black with bruising before lifting his head back to hers. His eyes were dark in the poorly lit room and they met hers lustily and she leant up to return the kiss by pressing one to the corner of his mouth.

His hand slipped between them, palm skimming over her breast and she found herself pressing herself into his touch but he hardly stopped, reaching for her fallen towel at her waist and tugging it up over her chest. His fingers flickered over her nipple, already hard, but it was so brief she wondered if it was unintentional.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from the stall wall and lead the way out into the bathroom and he was close behind, hand trailing the small of her back.

He turned his back to pull on his shirt, giving her some privacy to change, even though he'd seen almost all of it already, only turning around once he heard her bare feet slap on the floor and gather up her heap of wet clothing.

Carol was wearing the stripy plaid pajamas, they were too big for her and the shoulder slipped off to reveal the bright pink strap of her bra. He hadn't considered her underwear preferences before, but she definitely wasn't the kind of woman who would ordinarily chose such a gaudy colour, he was sure.

She stuffed her feet into her boots but didn't bother to lace them up and gave him a tired smile as she waited for him at the door.

He shouldered his bow and scooped up a forgotten bottle of showergel before meeting her at the door, hand brushing her exposed neck one last time. She shivered, but he expected it was from the cold, she often talked about feeling it in the place.

He left her at the doorway of the cell, Rick and Glenn were both back on the floor, sharing a whispered conversation and he joined them to get the lowdown. The two men had definitely made it out, but the Walkers that still lurked the yards had gone tearing after them, which meant they were not likely to get far. They had no real weapons and Daryl believed they were likely to die quickly. He wasn't sorry about it. Axel hadn't properly come around, but he was pretty sure his story would make him glad that they would perish.

They ate in the cell in silence, soup that had gotten cold whilst they were down in the showers but tasted good all the same, soaked up with thick chunks of homemade bread. They sat on their own beds to eat, knees occasionally bumping one another, raising soft smiles from both of them.

When he'd had his fill, she cleared their trays, lining them up neatly on the floor at the bottom of the bed. She was yawning openly now, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled his covers back. She seemed to be fighting sleep with everything she had as she fussed with tidying things up.

"Carol. Come on, get some rest." He ordered her as she set to folding something else that could damn well wait.

She gave him a look before finally agreeing, slumping down onto her bed. "Just don't think I'll be able to close my eyes." She whispered.

"'S gonna be fine. He's gone. Ain't comin' back." He told her firmly, hand at the lamp. She nodded once and he shut the light off and she sighed as the cell fell into darkness.

For all his talk about getting rest, it did not come easily. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable and he heard Carol doing the same for what felt like hours. He turned onto his side to face her bed and in the pale moonlight he saw that she was sitting up on the edge of the bed, head in her hands.

"Hey." He reached out and caught her wrist and she jumped in surprise. "Get over here." He gave her a gentle tug and she came over willingly enough, lifting the covers to slid in beside him.

There was hardly room really. If this, whatever this was, become permanent and _more_, then they would have to do something about that. It was the smallest of beds and his back was pressed up against the cold wall to get her to fit in with him but she gave a little sigh of contentment as she drew the covers back up, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck, an arm draping over his chest.

She smelt like peaches, which he knew came from the shower gel they both used but it was attractive and comforting at the same time and it didn't take long for her to began breathing slowly and heavily.

Pretty soon, he had joined her too.


	14. Uncertain

Author's Notes: Thank you for all the lovely comments, I am much obliged.

The rating is now M. Not necessarily because of any sort of smut. ;)

TWDTWDTWD

When he woke, she wasn't with him in the bed. Daryl rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and the cell came back into focus, he spotted her at the end of her own bed, fully clothed, her head bent down to her lap where she patched up a shirt.

"Hey." He grunted at her, rolling over to sit up.

"Morning." She murmured with a smile, glancing up at him from her work.

"Feel better today?" He asked. He tugged on his boots quickly, strapping on his weapons. Today would be the day he helped shift the body of Keith. He would've been prepared to just chuck it out the door, but he figured Carol and Beth wouldn't want to see that every time they looked down from the watchtower.

She nodded. "Much."

"Gonna tell me what happened exactly?" He stood up, leaning over her shoulder.

Carol shook her head lightly. "There's nothing to tell. It wasn't anything to me, just Beth. It was only words, Daryl." She shrugged. "They can't hurt."

He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot because he knew that wasn't true. He remembered his words to her not so long ago, ones that made him cringe when he thought of them now. He couldn't believe that they hadn't hurt.

"He's gone, so what's the point in hashing it out?" Carol snapped the thread in her fingers, holding the garment out to inspect her handiwork. "Besides, to be truthful, even though it was frightening, there has been worse done before now." She folded the shirt, seemingly satisifed. "And I made it through that, right?"

She stood up and gave his limp hand a squeeze.

The way she spoke made him angry. She shouldn't have had to endure anything at all. What went on with Keith should've been the worst thing that ever happened to her but it wasn't. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about that.

"I'm going to make breakfast."

Carol could hear Carl's voice outside the door, no doubt waiting for her to whip up the pancakes he'd become fond of recently and she gave him one last smile, reaching for the door.

"Gonna start a watch in the tower. Proper one, just to make sure they don't come back." He told her gruffly. "You wanna be on my shift?" He didn't really know what to say to her, after last night. She seemed happy enough, but she hadn't tried to kiss him again. Did she not want to? Or was she waiting for him to take the lead? He was shit at this sort of thing.

"Of course. Just give me a shout when we're ready to go."

"Wait. Take this with you." He picked up her rifle from the corner of the cell, slipping the strap over her shoulder.

"To cook breakfast?" She asked cynically, but she let him pull the strap over her head, positioning the weapon across her back.

"Not everyone is gonna be happy 'bout what happened to Keith." He explained and Carol suddenly remembered Adam, the man who had been prepared to stab Daryl whilst his back was turned. His hand lingered on the strap, fingers brushing her shoulder and she reached up and stroked them.

"Alright." She pulled the cell door opened and his hand fell away just as Carl and Lori greeted her. "Come find me when it's time to go on watch." She murmured as she ruffled Carl's hair, giving Lori a soft smile and following them down to the kitchens.

Tyreese was all for burning the body. There were plenty of them fallen in the yard these days and he wanted to stack them up outside and burn them all. Keith didn't deserve shit. He wasn't worth burning even. If it wasn't for the fact that he was in the prison, Daryl would've left him where he fell, like he was good for.

"We've got to get these fences fixed up, get the yard gates closed before we start a fire. A herd of Walkers spots the smoke and we'll be overrun again." Rick stood just outside door of the watch tower, surveying the land with a pair of binoculars.

"The gates are kind of a tricky one. They're operated by electricity. You can disable the mechanism to be able to do it manually, but those things weigh a ton. Might even need a vehicle to be able to do it and aside from that, there's the time it takes. It's never quiet enough to be able to do it without gettin' bit." Simon had found a diagram of the gates and had stuck it up on the glass to show everyone exactly what he meant.

"Even if the gates do work, fire ain't that way t'go. You said Woodbury ain't that far. Ain't worried that it might get spotted by them?" Daryl rested his chin on his rifle as he spoke, squinting into the direction of Woodbury, not that he could see anything.

Tyreese shrugged. "We ain't seen nothing about Woodbury. Might be nothing there at all, might be just good folks tryna make it through like the rest of us. Who knows?"

"Well, you obviously don't think much like that or else you'd be headed down there already." Rick told him, turning back to look towards the heavy gates, open wide enough to let the vehicles through.

Daryl resisted letting out a snort at Rick's words. Tyreese shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. Idiotic bastard.

"I'm just sayin', we don't know shit, could be nothing. Alotta rumours from a couple of people who aren't around no more. But alright, no fires. Still, we may aswell clean out the buildings first, maybe just stack the bodies outside for now. Once the buildings are secure, then the outside can get sorted."

"I don't want men sitting on their asses for this, Tyreese. We need to make a really push. We've been here weeks and all the progress we've made on securing this place has been one floor of one block. It's not enough. We're gonna lose a lot of daylight soon and we need to be making proper runs here, get some stuff stocked up for winter."

Daryl was glad Rick finally told Tyreese how it was. Too many of these idiots sat on their idle asses, getting their meals cooked and their clothes cleaned and doing nothing to deserve it. It was time to see who could be trusted and who needed to be locked back in a cell.

"I'll talk to them. I'm sure they'll be prepared to help out here."

"They help out, or they get the fuck out. It ain't hard." Daryl shrugged.

"You wanna tell them that? 'Cause I'm sure they ain't gonna see it that way, seeing as they been here the longest."

"If you ain't gonna man up to it, I got no problem with it." Daryl snarled, stepping forward.

"Cool it." Rick threw a hand out in front of Daryl, stopping from moving any further. "How about you two go round up some men, see who wants to shift some corpses after lunch?" He suggested and Tyreese threw one last glare at Daryl before nodding and following Simon down the stairs.

"What the hell is going on with you and him, huh?" Rick rounded on Daryl the moment he heard the downstairs door shut.

"Nothin'. Man's a jackass. Tired of hearin' his crap." Daryl turned away from Rick, looking back out the window.

"Come off it, Daryl. You and him have been on the verge of a smackdown for weeks. What's the problem, here?"

"Ain't no problem, hoss. Just tired of him pretendin' he's all that when he ain't prepared to do the dirty work."

Rick raised one eyebrow, considering Daryl for a moment before finally shaking his head. "Just lay off, alright? We do not want to make any more enemies."

Daryl growled under his breath. He could promise no such thing. Everytime he caught sight of Tyreese he wanted to sock him one, not matter what the other man said or did. He would never admit that his problem with Tyreese was his roving eye on Carol. What was worse, was that Tyreese did absolutely nothing to warrant a punch. He was the perfect gentleman to Carol and it was beyond infuriating. He held open doors, stood when she stood at the table, offered to carry anything she held.

What was even more infuriating was the way Carol just took it all with a smile. Never once told him to fuck off. She was just as damned polite back to him and if there was ever way to make him feel as inferior as shit, it was the way those two behaved around each other.

Still. She didn't kiss Tyreese. He took some comfort in that. He'd almost wanted to rub it in the other man's face but it was a little premature. It was only one kiss. It could mean nothing. Or everything. It could mean everything, if she wanted it to. He'd leave it with her, he had already decided on that. He had no clue on how to lead on this sort of matter so he wasn't going to even try. She would have to make it obvious what she wanted.

When they stepped into the hall, lunch was being handed out, everyone queuing in front of the open grate separating them from the kitchens.

He took his place at the back of the line, watching as Carol and Lori dished out trays with sandwiches and soup to everyone. Tyreese held the line up with his chitchat and he smirked to himself when he saw her brush him off in favour of getting everyone fed.

Lori handed him his tray and he took it with a nod, heading to sit a couple of seats up from Glenn and Maggie who were having an animated discussion about something or other, which he quickly tuned out, forcing down the soup even though it was too hot.

He was halfway through the bowl when as shadow came from behind and Carol slipped in the seat between him and Glenn.

"Hungry, huh?" She nodded towards his half empty tray and he just shrugged.

"Gonna take watch after this, still up for it? S'gonna be till after dinner." He told her after swallowing a large bite of sandwich.

"Sure. I'll just check Lori will be alright to cover the clean up, get a move on dinner."

Daryl pulled a face. "Just leave her to it. She ain't doin' anythin' else." It was irritating, the way she always felt she had to check with others before doing anything, like she needed permission.

"It's not easy cooking for over three dozen people, you know. It wouldn't be fair. But I am sure Maggie and Beth will be willing to cover it."

"Say what?" Maggie called over, hearing her name being mentioned.

"Just wondering if you'd be able to help Lori with dinner tonight, if I go on watch?" Carol asked, breaking her sandwich into mouthfuls.

"Sure thing." The other woman nodded and turned back to her conversation with her boyfriend.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence and Carol took his tray from him when he finished.

"Just going to get my jacket." She told him with a smile, taking off just as Rick sat opposite him.

"So, if we get Connor to run along the high wall in the yard where the cars are, distract the Walkers with flares, we're gonna move the truck to the entrance between the two yard and block it off. Then we can load up the bodies. Carol good enough to watch our backs up there? Tyreese thinks so."

"She's fine. Now that she knows how to use the damned gun properly."

"Gotta make sure you guys have our backs." Rick told him, lowering his voice.

Daryl reared his head back. "I don't see what the damn problem is. We got it. Just radio when you go." He shook his head at Rick's words. As if it needed to be questioned.

TWDTWDTWD

Daryl had set her to reloading all ten machine guns they had up in the watchtower, making sure each one was cleaned and ready to go. She did it with a sigh, but she didn't complain about it any more than that because it didn't do anything. He was a hard taskmaster and chose to ignore any protests she made.

He took to circle the watchtower, binoculars out, looking for the missing prisoners as she worked.

As she pieced together the last gun, she picked up her own and joined him, following his view out onto the deserted town.

"You really think they'd be dumb enough to come back here?" She asked, taking the binoculars from him to see for herself.

"They got no weapons, no vehicles, no food. Desperate people make stupid mistakes. They likely bit it already. But if they did, probably ain't too far from here and their geek asses might wander in." He told her.

"What will happen if they do come back. Alive, I mean?"

"Same as what happened to _him_." Daryl told her firmly.

The thought of them dying didn't entirely repulse her. It had turned out that they were largely responsible for Axel's injuries, which were so severe he would likely be bed bound for weeks. Simon thought he had broken ribs, his nose and his jaw and with only mild painkillers available, it was likely to be an excruciatingly painful healing process.

"I don't think Tyreese will allow that." She tried to keep her tone light. "Not again."

Daryl snorted dismissively. "Yeah, well I am pretty sure that dumbass thought Keith could fix his wrongdoin's with a freakin' song."

"Yeah, he's very trusting. He sees the best in people. Or tries to." Carol lifted the gun to her shoulder and peered throught he sight, hitting a Walker that was hovering near the door they used to enter and exit the yard.

"There weren't nothin' in Keith to see." He told her angrily, snatching up a gun leaning up against the wall and popping off two Walkers before looking back at her.

"I'm not knocking what you did, Daryl. That's not what I meant." Carol put the gun down and sat on the bench nearest to him. "I mean, Tyreese, he's naive, I suppose. People have always been good to him and he sees no reason why they wouldn't be. He hasn't lived like this group have. Hasn't lived the way we did, before the Walkers came."

His head snapped up at that. They hadn't really spoken about lives before Walkers, he didn't really know shit about her, in a conventional sense. Didn't know how old she was, what she did for work before, or if she had a favourite song or movie. He knew she slept fitfully and scrunched her features up in her sleep. Knew she always drunk a glass of water before doing anything else in the morning and that when she was nervous or worried, her hand would fly to her necklace, fingers running the pendant across the chain until she was distracted with something else.

He assumed she'd had a shitty homelife. Pretty sure he was on the money on that one. And apparently she correctly the assumed the same thing about him. Not that he was ever going to confirm that one. The past was the past.

"Yeah, well there ain't no room to be nice anymore, you know that." He groused, shooting another Walker before putting the gun down.

"I know that, yes. Learning it, slowly. Tyreese will learn it too, I'm sure."

"You wanna quit talkin' about him? Pisses me off." He stalked back inside the watchtower, picking up the radio that lay on the side. "We gonna get a show goin' here? Wastin' daylight."

"We'll be five minutes or so." The voice crackled back. Simon, he thought but the quality was pretty poor so he couldn't be sure. "Just huntin' up some flares."

Carol was staring at him when he turned back around, assessing him, almost.

"What?" He snapped.

"You remember what I told you, right? Nothing going on with me and him." Her voice was soft and she turned her body to face him fully as she spoke.

He didn't say anything, instead pulling his cross bow from his back and loading a bolt.

"I wouldn't kiss you, Daryl, if I wanted to...whatever with him."

She sighed when he didn't say anything. He didn't seem to want to give her anything to work with. Sure, he seemed to enjoy their kiss the night before, but he didn't appear to have anything to say about it. Like if he would want to do it again. He made her feel so damn uncertain.

"Am I completely off the mark here? Because if I made you uncomfortable last night, then I am sorry. I don't want to make you feel obliged to do..." She shrugged. "Anything. Anything you don't want to do."

"Woman, when have I ever done shit I don't wanna do?" He spat the words out and he wished he hadn't. Why did he always sound like he was on the verge of biting her head off? This was exactly the reason _why_ there had never been girlfriends. "Fuck." He dropped the crossbow to the wall and slide onto the bench beside her.

"Then why-" Her words were muffled when he leant over, closing the half a foot gap between them, hand cupping her jaw coarsely, his mouth clamping over hers.

She squeaked in shock, the sound vibrating right into his own mouth but a second later her felt her relax, her hand settling on his knee to steady herself as she submitted to his kiss.

He was rougher than he had been the previous day, tongue duelling with her own, his grip on her jaw firm and he used his other hand to pull her closer, scrunching the lapel of her jacket in his palm.

They broke their contact briefly, breath a little ragged and he could see her lips move, as if she were going to say something and he stopped her quickly by catching her bottom lip in his teeth because, hell, the last thing he wanted to do was _talk_.

Her hand found her way to his neck, fingertips pressing firmly into his skin. Nails just grazing his skin when he found his touch getting a little more aggressive, a gentle reminder that with her, he had to be softer.

He was just contemplating on how he could get her inside the watchtower without having to do any talking, if she would let him grip her by the hips and carry her in when there was a crackle behind him.

Carol jumped away quickly, startled and slid across the bench as if she had been caught by somebody face to face.

"You guys ready to go? We're comin' from the other yard in a few minutes."

Daryl jumped up from the bench as she dragged her hand across her mouth, as if it would wipe away any evidence of what they had just done.

"Fuck." He cursed. As if they couldn't wait five more fucking minutes.

Carol stood up behind him, scooping up her gun. "Yeah." She murmured.


	15. Standstill

Author's Notes: Thank you for your kind reads and reviews, love you!

TWDTWDTWD

It had been forty nine days since they had arrived at Macon State prison. Forty nine days of concrete walls and metal bars.

Carol had been out of the grounds for exactly one of those days. She never thought she would ever even think it, but she thought maybe she missed the days they spent camping out at the farm, surrounded by greenery and fresh air. Maybe even those days between the farm and the prison, where they took shelter wherever they could. Sure, it was nice knowing that going to bed generally meant you would wake up alive and whole but it was a fairly miserable and tedious existence.

What made it feel even more tedious was that there was absolutely no more kissing to be had since the watchtower. Not one. She slept in her bed and Daryl slept in his. There was that one time they almost did, almost did more too, but even recounting it in her own head was excruciatingly embarrassing and probably put a stop to things permanently.

It had been a couple of days after their kiss in the watch tower and she had gone with the other women down to the showers. They usually showered in pairs, one pair to guard for the other whilst they cleaned up.

They'd been walking back up to the floor, Daryl leaning up against the window, watching something or other outside, at the entrance to the corridor and he didn't give the gaggle of women more than a passing glance as they made their way back to their cells for the night.

"Hey, you coming?" Carol lingered as the others went ahead. She took a step towards him and he pulled his eyes away from the glass to look at her.

"Yeah. Walkers got a hold of somethin'." He explained and Carol dropped her towel and washbag onto the ground to see for herself.

"Looks like an animal. Ain't a bad size, whatever it is." He moved over to let her see and Carol had to stand on her tip toes to get a better view.

"You sure it's an animal? Not a person?" She murmured, turning back to face him and finding his face was just at her shoulder.

"Naw, coyote, maybe? Can't tell with all the geeks crowdin' it." His hands came to rest lighly on the window sill, trapping her between him and the wall. She heard him inhale deeply as she looked back towards the scene just in front of the entrance of the prison, felt the air move just at her hair.

"It's strawberries. I borrowed Maggie's shampoo." She answered him, even though he hadn't asked the question.

He didn't say anything, just pushed his head forward so that it was right next to hers, looking back out the window. She'd been waiting for the opportunity to kiss him again and now it had presented it's self to her. She wished that she had more courage to say how she felt. Show it even. She wished that he did too.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye and took a deep breath. She froze when his hands came away from the sill, landing on her hips lightly, fingering the loops of her jeans before speading to rest right on her stomach.

"This ok?" He murmured, sounding hesitant.

She nodded once, mashing her lips together, not trusting herself to say anything properly. She kept her eyes on the gathered Walkers outside and saw them part as they ripped their prey apart, taking limbs in their hands.

"You're right, I think it was a coyote." She told him, trying not to gasp as his fingertips pressed into her skin through her camisole.

"Told ya." His lips were on her shoulder now, not quite touching but so close that his words vibrated against her skin. She took another breath and turned her face slightly, ready to bring her mouth to his as she did so, his eyes lifted to hers and then, a crack.

He lifted his head at exactly the same moment and their foreheads collided and she couldn't resist letting out a small cry at the shock and sharp pain. His hands released her and flew to his head, rubbing wildly as if they would massage the pain away.

She didn't even have time to do anything. There was a split second where they both just stood there, nursing their respective pain and before she could work out whether she was going to laugh or just push on and kiss him anyway, there was heavy footsteps on the metal staircase.

She pulled her hand away and blinked heavily, trying to mask the watering of her eyes. As she finally managed to focus, Tyreese's towering form came into view.

"You alright?" He asked, voice low, bouncing off the walls, almost.

"Of course." She told him with a smile even though she could hear Daryl snort behind her. "What's up?"

"Need someone to cover Connor's turn on watch, he's sick. It's the five till nine. Wondering if Glenn or T-Dog would be good for it?" Tyreese asked, holding out a radio and eyeing Daryl's back with a look of distrust.

Daryl spun around quickly. "I got it." He snapped, tearing the radio out of Tyreese's outstretched hand and stalking back towards their cell.

"I interrupted something, right?" Tyreese stared after the other man as he made his way to the cell, slamming the door. It bounced off the lock with a bang.

"It doesn't matter." Carol smiled softly. "Goodnight, Tyreese." She gave him a pat on the forearm before picking up her forgotten wash things and following after Daryl.

It hadn't really been too awkward after that. A couple of days of avoiding each other's gazes but then they went right back to their comfortable silences and unspoken gestures. There just wasn't anymore kissing. Or touching.

But everytime she thought about that last time, weeks later, her stomach clenched up and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. There seemed to be an extraordinary amount of interruptions and disturbances whenever she tried to do anything with him and she was beginning to think a higher power was dropping hints that she and Daryl, they were not meant to be.

TWDTWDTWD

"I want to scout out Woodbury." Rick announced to him as he slammed his breakfast tray opposite Daryl, sliding into the seat.

Daryl set down his coffee cup and finished chewing, swallowing slowly. He had expected this eventually and truthfully, he was of the same mindset. "I'm listenin'."

"We've been here 54 days. We're making good headway on cleaning the place out, but we need to know what defences we'll have to put in place."

"Wanna finish stockin' up first? One thing at a time." They'd only just started making regular runs for supplies that would last them months. Food wasn't something they desperately needed, the prison had been stocked for thousands that would've lasted weeks, if not months but it never hurt to have more.

Besides, he wasn't the only one who felt cooped up in the place, plenty of men were itching to get out. And women. There had only been three runs so far, but there would be more. They would need to head further out and Carol was already asking him if she could go.

He'd managed to head her off so far, telling her that other people wanted a turn but he knew when it came to the riskier tasks, where they were far from their new home, sleeping in a car, there wouldn't be nearly as many volunteers.

He couldn't deny her a chance to go. It wouldn't be fair. He was forever banging on about everybody doing their fair share. But if she went, he would go too. There was no question of that. She would be a distraction. She had been last time, but he thought it would probably be worse now, even if she were more capable than ever.

"Yeah, sure, but it won't take long, a few weeks. The last thing we need is strangers showing up at our door." Rick told him, scooping up a mouthful of powdered eggs.

"They ain't so far. These guys been here from the start. That's months, Rick. How long since this thing began?"

Rick shrugged. "Six months, little more, maybe. But back when it was just them, they didn't leave the building. Walkers were everywhere. If anyone came by here, they wouldn't know there was anyone surviving. But now we got a couple hundred corpses stacked up by our front door."

The man had a point. Until their group showed up, the others hadn't done anything to the place.

"Alright. Good luck tryin' to run that past them." He jerked his head towards the table to the left of him, where Tyreese, Axel, Simon and Connor sat.

"I'll be honest here, Daryl. I don't give a crap what they think anymore. They're not bad people, not all of them, but they are too contented. Maybe they've just had a better time of it than we've had, but they are not making the preparations that we both know need to be made." Rick's voice was low but fierce, full of determination that reminded Daryl of the days before they found this place.

Daryl nodded. "You got it, boss. Was thinkin' 'bout makin' another run tomorrow. Looked at the map and it may be two, three days. Cordelle was too busy, but Rochelle and Abbeville seem smaller, less Walkers, more supplies."

"How many miles out?"

"Fifty nine." Twice the distance of any other run they'd made.

Rick let out a low whistle. "That's a hell of a distance. Radios won't work that far out."

"We need to go to smaller towns, man, we keep gettin' overrun whenever we try the bigger places."

"We gonna see weapons in these small towns?" Rick asked, finishing the last of his meal.

"This is _Georgia_, Rick. Guns got sold next to the fuckin' diapers and bread. Besides, they ain't the only things we need. Gotta find a hospital soon. It ain't gonna be long 'fore Lori...you know..." He couldn't quite bring himself to say exactly what Lori was going to have to do in a couple of months. He tried to rein in the shudder that was making it's way to the surface of his skin.

"I know, I know." Rick conceded softly, scrubbing a hand across his chin. "Simon's been writing his list of the things he needs. But hospitals...they're never empty are they?" He sighed. "Simon will have to go and I know Tyreese was talking about coming on the next trip."

"I ain't takin' him along." Daryl told him quickly. "If Simon comes, so will Riley and that's enough from that side of the room. Carol wants to come too anyhow and we could do with a woman 'cause I don't know shit 'bout baby crap."

"If Carol's coming, I wanna go." The voice behind him was soft and Beth slide into the seat beside him, clutching her empty tray. "I wanna help, Rick."

Daryl gave the girl a quick glance, but she was looking earnestly at Rick, her expression almost pleading. He turned to Rick to see him appraising her before shaking his head.

"I can't see your daddy agreeing to that. I won't go against him." Rick told her gently.

"He can't say anything! I'm seventeen! Or at least, I_ think _I am. And I go out on that yard and stab more Walkers in the head than any other girl here, even Maggie!"

Daryl shrugged. "She ain't lyin'." Sure, the kid wasn't all that clever with a gun, but in fairness to her, they were way too big. But even after that incident with Keith, it didn't stop her going out with Riley and learning how to take on Walkers. She'd done her share in helping clear out so much of the prison.

"You want her to go along?" Rick asked him, unable to hide the surprise in his tone.

"Rather her than some idiot who won't pull his weight or doesn't know how to defend himself." He answered honestly.

Rick seemed to mull it over for a moment whilst Beth looked at him eagerly, almost bouncing from her seat in anticipation. It was sickening enough to make him take back his words.

"Clear it with your father." Was all he said and Beth let out a little cheer under her breath before rushing away towards Riley. They both watched her for a moment. "You really wanna take her?"

"If it means there ain't no room for Tyreese." He muttered, standing up. "Gonna head up to the Warden's offices. Gotta be some paperwork or somethin' on what hospitals are where. Carol's good at all that shit."

Rick nodded and Daryl headed to dump his tray at the serving hatch, where Carol was clearing trays at lightening speed. "You almost done?" He asked.

She nodded, stacking another empty tray on top of the teetering pile.

"Need you." He grunted at her, moving away to stand by the door for her. He saw her wipe her hands on a dish cloth and she threw it onto the counter to meet him on the other side of the door.

"What's up?"

"You still wanna go on a run?"

TWDTWDTWD

Carol sat on the edge of Daryl's bed, stacks upon stacks of maps and directories scattered over her mattress, in a manner she could only describe as organised chaos. Nothing had labels, nor had it been organised in any sort of recognisable manner.

Daryl had helped her carry the boxes to the cell for her to ponder over, entrusting her with the route for the trip they were about to undertake. She was sure if Daryl was the one making the decisions, the journey would've been decided in under an hour. But upon watching her sort through the piles, he had given a snort of contempt and walked out, muttering on about something or other that apparently needed his urgent attention.

But picking the right hospital to loot was important. They were always crawling with Walkers and she wanted to minimise any problems they might face.

There must have been dozens of pamphlets on different medical facilities and she discarded the larger ones immediately, focusing mainly on the small, expensive places that would've been quieter.

She had the maps on hand too, different ones, lines crossed through roads and routes that between the whole group, they knew were blocked.

By the time Daryl came to the cell, it was dark and she thought she finally had a route nailed. Some of the maps were quite detailed and she pleased to have picked out several places of interest, all miles from the place called Woodbury.

"Geez, you still fuckin' at it?" He griped as he forced the door shut.

"If you're going to ask me to do something this important, I am going to do it right, you know." She told him, never taking her eyes from the list in had, jotting down address and their co-ordinates on the maps.

"Half the time our plans go to shit anyway. Don't worry 'bout it so much." He kicked off his boots and shrugged his jacket off to the floor, ignoring her tuts of disapproval.

"How did Beth's shooting lesson go?" She asked. Daryl threw himself onto his bed behind her, propping his head up with his arms behind him.

"Gun's too big. Gave her mine to borrow." He told her quietly, closing his eyes.

Carol put down the list in her hand and turned to give him a look of surprise.

"You, you _gifted_ her your gun?" She asked. Daryl had gone out with Riley and Beth up to the watch tower, to get Beth in one more practice with the machine guns. Evidently it had not gone as well as hoped.

"She ain't keepin' it." He retorted defensively. Carol just raised one eyebrow. "And I ain't doin' it to be nice or some shit. I just don't wanna have to save her ass 'cause she ain't got a fuckin' gun. I can use one of the others."

Carol just turned back to her papers with a small snort. No matter how much he protested, he had done a nice thing but she figured she wouldn't push the issue, she could hear him grinding his teeth behind her.

"You gonna go to sleep or what?" He finally asked.

"Got to finish up this first. It may look messy, but it's organised. I'll lose all the important stuff otherwise." Carol told him with a sigh. Truthfully, she was ready for bed too, but she'd spent the best part of the day working on what was on her bed and she wasn't about to throw it away because she felt like yawning.

"Just leave it there. You can get in here." The words came from his mouth in a rush, as if they didn't come out quickly, they wouldn't come out at all.

She slowly pushed the papers on her lap into their respective piles on her bed. He wanted to touch her now? After all this time?

"You sure?"

"I just said, didn't I?" He snapped, but the words were half hearted, hardly aggressive. He lifted his body off the mattress to pull his blanket out from under him.

She stood up and pulled off her cardigan, folding it neatly and tucking it onto the shelf. When she turned back to his bed, he had one arm folded under his head, his back pressed up against the wall.

She climbed under the covers hesitantly, rolling herself away from him, pressing herself to the edge of the mattress to give him room, even if was only a couple of inches.

Daryl leant over her to turn the lamp off and she felt his head land on the pillow right behind her, breath hot on her scalp.

She almost said something, anything but then his arm snaked over hips, pulling her a few inches towards the middle of the mattress, her back flush against his chest.

"You gonna fall out if you sleep like that." He muttered, letting his arm drape loosely over her.

"Daryl..." She couldn't seem to find any words but she felt like something should be said. They were up and down like a yo yo and she never knew where she stood.

"Shut up and sleep will ya, s'early start tomorrow." He groaned in her ear, but his lips brushed her skin as he spoke and it gave her the chills.

Seemed like they weren't at such a standstill after all.


	16. Distraction

Author's Notes: Thank you for the reads and reviews. I do read each and every one (although not until 24 hours after they arrive, for my own sanity.)

This is a little shorter than I usually like, so much apologies, I had to push a 1000 words or so back onto the next chapter to get the flow right.

TWDTWDTWD

Daryl woke up with a stiff neck, his legs numb. He was flat on his back, somehow Carol had ended up tucked between the him and the wall in the night, although he didn't remember how. Her chest was resting atop his, head tucked under his neck and she had her arms wrapped around him like a vice.

He didn't really mind though, even as he shifted his legs free from hers and felt the feeling return painfully to them. It was worth it. She shifted with him as he pulled his legs from under her, moaning a little in her sleep and nuzzling her head further into his neck.

"Don't tell me it's time to get up already." She murmured sleepily.

"Nah, ain't light yet." He told her, bring his hand up to rest across her shoulders, fingers brushing over her shoulder blades. Their position reminded him of the time when they were sleeping in the tent together. Except now, it wasn't all that uncomfortable. Well physically, it was awful. But it felt good. Felt like it could be right. He hadn't shared a bed with anyone, not since he was a kid and slept in with Merle.

"Good." She mumbled into his skin and a few seconds later he heard her breathing return to slow and deep, arms loosening their grip on his waist slightly.

He managed to doze back off with her for a little while and forcing himself awake when the light hit the mattress. His hand found it's way under the collar of her shirt, rubbing lightly at her neck. She stiffened and stretched at his touch, almost cat like as she unfurled her hands.

"Hey." She greeted, looking up at him from under her lashes. "Time to go?"

He nodded. "Yep." Daryl couldn't bring himself to move though, not as her fingers drummed a soft rhythm across his stomach.

Carol let out a sigh. "I guess I'm going to be the first one to brave the cold, huh?" She let out a chuckle, snaking one arm out from the covers. "God, I miss radiators." She untangled herself from him, sitting upright and rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. "Heck, I even miss the campfires we used to have."

Daryl allowed himself to smirk at her as she stood up and shook the sleep from her limbs. He sat up after her, pulling his boots from the floor and lacing them up quickly.

He pulled a box of bullets out from the drawer of the bedside cabinet, stuffing them in the pockets of his jeans and his jacket. When he looked up, he did a double take. Carol was standing at the foot of her bed, her back to him. And she was practically naked.

Alright, not really naked, he conceded, but she wearing just a pair of blue panties and a grey camisole and she was bent over, pulling her pants on, her ass in full view for him. He watched her for a moment as she pulled the pants up over her hips, zipping them deftly before reaching for her shirt.

Well if he had any doubts about his growing attraction to Carol, the tightening in his pants confirmed it for him. He mentally slapped himself, ripping his eyes from her, focusing back onto strapping on his weapons.

He need to get his head back in the game. He wished he hadn't just seen what he had. Not that he didn't appreciate the view, but he really didn't need to see her ass behind his eyelids everytime he blinked. He needed to focus. He knew this woman was going to be a damned distraction.

He watched her as she strapped on her knife, tugged on her jacket before slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Do you think it'll be just two nights?" Carol asked as she gathered up her papers.

Daryl shrugged. "Depends on Walkers." He stood and watched her forehead wrinkle as she folded up her maps. "You don't gotta go."

"I want to go. Just wondering if Lori's going to be alright looking after the kitchen stuff. She's feeling a little rough these days." She told him, zipping her bag shut.

He resisted the urge to scoff. Typical Carol, worrying about how other people would do. And over something as stupid as who was going to make dinner.

"Don't." She looked at him reproachfully. "I know what you're thinking."

"I didn't say nothin'!" He protested. "You ready to go or what?"

"You didn't have to say anything. I know you don't see what we do as important but it's important to us."

"It ain't that. Just you treatin' Lori like she's fuckin' crippled. She's knocked up, she ain't dyin'."

"Yes and I'd quite like to keep it that way. She can't afford to get sick. Pregnancy was dangerous, even before." She shook her head as Daryl gave her a blank look. "You don't get it. You wouldn't, you've never-"

Daryl cut her off with a groan. "Somethin' else I don't get?" There was always something he didn't get when it came to Carol. He was tired of it.

"Daryl." Carol let out a small laugh, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "I meant to say, you haven't been pregnant. That's why you don't get it."

Daryl let his lips quirk into some semblance of a smirk.

"I thought you might let that one slide." She murmured. She leant over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head to catch her lips in his, her fingers pressed into his arm and she stepped closer to him, pushing her body close.

It was easy to get distracted by her. By the way she gripped his arm with one hand, the other creeping to his neck and curling into his hair. Her smell was distracting. Her shower gel, which even though it was the same as his, took on a different scent on her skin and it was far more alluring. It mingled with her own unique scent, something that he couldn't name, but it was attractive to him. But the most distracting thing was definitely how much of her was touching him from her toes nudging his, to her thighs that rested against his, to her chest mashed against him, if he had to describe Carol in one word, distraction would just about cover it.

"This is why I want you to stay here." He told her after a moment, reluctantly pulling away. "'Cause otherwise, this all we're gonna end up doin', instead of watchin' our asses."

Carol didn't say anything, just touching her lips with her fingertips before heading for the door.

TWDTWDTWD

Carol regretted agreeing with Simon that it would be easier to take just the one van.

For a start, there were only three seats, with Daryl insisting on driving, as usual and Simon in the seat next to him, map in hand. She'd hoped that she could take the remaining seat but instead Riley jumped in before her and she clambered into the back after Beth with a sigh.

It was probably for the best. If what Daryl had said to her was true, then maybe they needed to sit apart, get out of each other's eyeline. She didn't want to be a distraction, mainly because she was not entirely sure whether Daryl saw it as a good thing or a bad thing.

Still didn't stop her from feeling nauseous as the van bumped over debris on the road. She was glad when they finally stopped at their first port of call, the small doctor's surgery in a small town, right on the outskirts.

Simon opened the doors and she jumped out with Beth, clutching her knife tightly. Daryl and Riley were a few feet ahead, already working on the Walkers that lurched towards them, groaning hungrily.

There weren't too many, Beth charged forward with a fury Carol had never seen before, almost jumping on the back of a tall, stocky Walker and ramming her knife into the side of it's head.

Carol was watching her move so quickly and gracefully that she almost missed the Walker that came from her left hand side, she spotted it as it was just two foot away from her and she raised her knife and stabbed it's head as hard as she could, yanking her knife free to run to another that was coming from the smashed door of the doctor's surgery.

"Carol. Let's get it there." Simon touched her shoulder as she pulled her knife free, kicking the body off her fallen bag.

Daryl was at the door, crossbow raised as he stood in the hallway, scanning for anymore threats. As she and the others joined him, he unleashed an arrow and the Walker down the hallway, clad in a white doctor's coat fell to the ground.

Simon got to the pharmacy first, which was mercifully empty and headed straight to the back to find the medicines. Daryl went for the other exit, checking to keep it empty.

"Eye on that door, Riley." He threw his arm out towards the door they'd come through and the boy nodded eagerly, assuming his position. "Beth, you get on this one." Daryl shoved an empty shelving over the entrance, which was made entirely off glass and lead onto the sidewalk. There were no Walkers there so far, but Carol knew that could change at any minute. "Carol, load up what you can."

Daryl shouldered his bow as he walked towards the back room and she surveyed the mess on the floor. There was plenty, if one was prepared to root through the rest of the rubbish. It didn't so much look like the place had been looted, but rather that a tornado had blown through. She got on her knees at one of the larger piles, opening her bag and stuffing in boxes of band aids and aspirin.

She heard Daryl chewing Simon out about something and he came stalking out a moment later, Simon right behind him, a sack over his shoulder, rattling the way only pill bottles did.

"What's going on?" She asked, dusting off her knees and hoisting her bag on her shoulder.

"Simon gettin' too picky." Daryl grumbled as he motioned for the kids to follow him out.

"I just don't see the point in taking two bottles of Doxycycline, which might I say, treats Chlamydia." Simon replied acidly, stalking past them.

"I thought you were a fuckin' medic? Doxycycline also treats E-Coli, asshole." Daryl spat out and Carol bit back a smile.

"How the hell do you even know that?" Riley asked as they made their way towards the doctor's offices, across the building. A Walker lurched from a dark corner of a room and Daryl kicked it to the floor, grabbing the fire extinguisher that was mounted on the wall beside him and slamming it over the creature's head with a sickening crack.

He threw it to the ground behind them and wiped his hands. "Just 'cause I didn't go to school, don't mean I don't know shit."

"You never went to school?" Beth asked.

Simon tossed the bag down by the entrance and Daryl led the way towards the offices at the back.

"Dropped after sixth grade." He muttered. He and Simon both went into the offices whilst Carol waited with Beth and Riley in the reception.

The two were having a rushed, muttered conversation and she turned away to watch the doors. In the corner of her eye she saw Riley's hand snake to the glass bowl on reception, grabbing a handful of foil wrapped squares that she quickly realised were condoms and stuffing them in his pocket.

It was easier to pretend not to notice. Teenagers and their hormones, she thought with a chuckle. She was not going to get involved in that one, she would leave that to Hershel and Simon.

The two men came out a few minutes later, Simon was clutching a thick book. "Drug directory." He explained.

"Come on, let's get outta here."

TWDTWDTWD

The rest of the day was not as fruitful as the doctor's surgery, but for Carol, it was completely exhausting. One thing about being in the watch tower, it didn't require any running. There was an awful lot of that to be had and Carol had never considered herself completely out of shape until this day.

Aside from that, there was the constant adrenaline that tore through her veins, leaving her breathless. She didn't know the others managed to do it so often, the blood was pounding in her ears.

She was infinitely grateful when Daryl called it a day and they stopped the van along a road in the middle of nowhere. The van was partially filled and despite Simon's offer for her to take the sleeping bags alongside Riley and Beth in the back, she refused, opting instead to sit up front with Daryl.

"Here." She handed him a sandwich that she'd made that morning and he took it eagerly, wolfing it down. It was the first thing he had eaten all day and it hadn't escaped her notice.

Daryl always worked harder than anyone else, doing more watches, killing more Walkers. Always ate last, slept last. She wondered if he would be able to keep it up long term.

They ate in silence, the only sound was the muffled conversation of the others through the metal cab of the van. Carol settled herself against the door of the van to try and get some rest but she could sense that Daryl wasn't doing the same.

"You've got to sleep soon, you know." She told him, turning in her seat so that her back was pressed up against the door instead.

"It's fine. I slept last night." He told her, sitting back in the driver's seat and putting one boot on the dashboard.

"Oh? Forgive me for thinking that you need to sleep every night."

Daryl shot her a glare that she could hardly see in the moonlight, but she could feel it nonetheless.

"'S fine. Just go to sleep will ya?" He grumbled and Carol just sighed into the darkness and shifted so that she was closer to him. Daryl nudged her arm. "Just lay down. Plenty o' room."

She considered it for a moment. She was pretty sure that putting her head that close to his lap would be considered distracting. And not just for him, but for her too.

But she was tired. The door was uncomfortable so she pulled her blanket over her shoulders and moved closer to him. She opted out of resting on his lap and settled for leaning her head on his shoulder, tucking her knees against his thighs.

Her body ached as tried to drift off and she hoped the next day would prove more successful if there was this much effort required again.


	17. Run

Author's Notes: Apologies for the delay in updating. I am very much firm in how I want to take this story, I have the next few chapters set out, but it was difficult to put words onto the screen.

Thanks for your reads and reviews.

TWDTWDTWD

It was exhilarating, being a part of something important. She wondered if Daryl felt the same sense of pride when he came back to camp with things they needed. Probably not, she had decided. Daryl never seemed to appreciate his true worth. But no matter how great it felt to have a sense of importance, it was still exhausting. They'd been out of the prison for forty eight hours and she'd slept for maybe seven or eight of those.

But then, she supposed Daryl had slept even less. He didn't sleep at all that first night, she could feel him, stiff and tense against her as she dozed restlessly. The second night, he was hardly any better, she could feel him shift about, his head dropping onto hers before snapping up and becoming alert once more.

"You have to sleep now." She ordered him on the third day. The others had been sleeping in the back of the van and she could hear them starting to move about as dawn began to break.

"I'm fine!" Daryl snapped back, straightening his limbs. She heard his neck crick as he stretched to the roof of the van.

"No, you're not." She retorted icily. "You are on the verge of passing out, Daryl. We have got at least a couple of hours till the next stop and you are going to get in the back without a fuss." Carol didn't know where this sudden forcefulness came from, maybe it had something to do with the feeling of pride that was currently coarsing her veins, but even though he scowled at her like she was the devil, she knew she was right to tell him.

The others came to the door of the van and she gave him a small shove for good measure, stifling a smirk when he growled, low in the back of his throat.

"We ready to move on?" Simon asked as Carol opened her door.

"Yes." Carol answered, even though the other man looked to Daryl. "We're going to get some rest, you alright to drive?"

"Sure." Simon looked at Daryl, who was chewing on a hangnail, eyes to the floor. "You can probably get a couple of hours in."

There was not much room left in the van, boxes were all stacked up on the right side and Carol clambered in first, taking Daryl's crossbow from him so he could follow her and heave the door shut.

There wasn't really room for them both to lie down, so she settled for leaning against the side wall of the van. Daryl stalked the boxes, pushing them aside before settling down near her. He balled up a discarded blanket, stuffed it up against her thigh and rested his head against it.

"Thank you." She murmured, as he closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

"Only to shut ya up." He grunted, shifting his feet.

"Well, I am grateful, whatever the reason."

There was silence for a little while, the truck rumbled to life and made it's way off the bumpy dirt track they'd parked up on over night, before turning sharply onto the main road. Carol knew he wasn't sleeping. His breathing hadn't settled to one that she recognised from weeks of sharing that tiny cell, slow and even.

Her hands twisted in her lap and she knew she couldn't even close her own eyes until he was asleep. Her fingers untwisted themselves without conscious thought, her hand floated over his head and before she knew it, she was smoothing his hair from his forehead, long, straggly strands of dark blonde hair that lingered over his eyes.

His eyelids flickered, but he didn't say anything or stop her at all, or even give her any other suggestion that he was aware of what she was doing.

It was calming, the rhythmic stroke of her hand as it smoothed over his forehead and up into his hair and back again and as his hands loosened across his chest, signalling his unconsciousness, she felt her own eyelids getting heavy. It was all too easy to fall into sleep along side him.

TWDTWDTWD

It was the last stop and so far, so good. Daryl was fairly pleased with how things were going. Sure most of the plans that Carol had made went to shit, but that's usually how these things went, because the only thing you couldn't plan were how many Walkers would be where they needed to be.

They were all alive and unscathed and that was what was important. They'd got the things they'd come for and now they just wanted to pick up the last of the things Simon needed when it was time to deliver Lori's baby.

"Carol." Daryl jerked his head down the corridor up ahead, the sign above their heads swinging slowly in the draft, proclaiming to lead them to the maternity ward. She nodded her understanding and raised her knife, leading their little group down the shadowy passage.

There hadn't been anybody around the place. It was a private hospital, specialising in care for pregnant women and babies. The whole building had been locked up when they'd arrived and Daryl had taken out the glass door with the butt of a rifle.

The noise had alerted two Walkers to them, the kind that looked like they'd been that way for awhile, feet bare and bloody, clothes torn and dirty. One was small, a teenage girl, probably Beth's age and Carol had taken her on.

It still hurt, to watch the girl limp her way over to her, groaning becoming frenzied as she smelt Carol. She didn't think she'd ever have the same blase way of dealing with the undead as some of the others in their group. It was easier, to do it up in the watchtower, where the faces were blurred and the bodies were clad in jumpsuits. She didn't think about it too much then. But when she had to be stealthy and to kill them up close, especially ones like this girl, it hurt her heart. She would never enjoy it. Would never use the situation as an excuse to let off steam.

"Hey." Daryl whispered to her, snapping her from her thoughts. "Stay here a bit. Me and the boys are gonna scout it out first." He gave her a firm look, one that suggested she shouldn't argue and she nodded her understanding. "Holler if you get any trouble."

She realised, as the doors swung behind them, what he was trying to do by making her and Beth stay outside. Just because the building had been locked, it didn't mean it was empty. This place was for mothers and babies. A sickening feeling welled in her gut and she realised she wouldn't be prepared for that. Couldn't.

Not for the first time, she felt a rush of gratitude for this man and his presence in her life. She was absolutely sure that she wouldn't not be around without him.

She could hear them rooting about in the ward, the ringing of metal hitting metal and a few minutes later, Daryl and Riley came out.

"We're going out through the other exit. Head straight down the corridor, do not look through the glass windows on the right." Daryl told them brusquely, shouldering his crossbow.

Riley wrapped an arm around Beth and led her down the corridor and as they door swung open she heard Beth gasp, before burrowing her face into Riley's neck.

"Come on." Daryl took her by the elbow and Carol kept her face forward as she kept a brisk pace down the corridor. As the glass walls started, she turned her head downwards, eyeing her feet instead and Daryl's hand came up and cupped her neck, urging her forward. The contact caught her unawares, jerking her head upwards but Daryl's fingers curled into her skin, gently forcing her head back down.

"Don't look. You don't wanna see." He murmured.

She didn't answer. She trusted his judgement. She wouldn't look.

Simon was loading things on a trolley when they came into the ward and Daryl finally let go of her, heading straight to the other end of the ward to keep watch at the windows.

"Carol, can you gather up the instruments in that drawer?" Simon asked, nodding towards the open metal cabinet, a bag sitting on top.

She stepped up, gathering up bunches of little metal tools that gave her shivers. Scalpels and forceps, things she hoped they would not have to use.

"You ever delivered a baby before, Simon?" She asked as she threw in a box of latex gloves and a half open bottle of hand sanitizer.

"A couple. All been pretty straightforward births, you know." Simon gave her an uneasy look. "Usually get the moms to the hospital before too much happens. But it's going to be fine." He gave Carol a reassuring smile. "It will. Between me and Hershel, we got it covered. And you, you'll be there, right? The only other woman who knows what it's all about."

Carol considered that for a moment. She hadn't thought that far ahead, but she supposed she would be there. She didn't know quite how she felt about it. She would help Lori however she could, even if it was painful to do so.

"You comparing Lori to one of my daddy's cows?" Beth asked from across the room, laughter in her voice.

"Yeah, we don't mention I said that." Simon chuckled back, zipping his bag up. "Right, I wanna go back through the way we came, there were some books, I think I saw...I could use them."

"Well, we'll load up, meet you round the front by the van in a minute." Daryl told him coming away from the window to pick up a full duffle bag.

Simon nodded and picked up his gun, turning back the way they came. Riley picked up a bag of his own and headed for a door that Carol hadn't noticed before, an emergency exit that lead down a corridor. She heard the creak of a heavy door swinging open as she piled in a few more bits and pieces. Blankets in yellow and white, because even though it didn't really matter, it seemed strange to have a baby boy in pink blankets or vice versa, some cloths and creams.

A moment later, she heard the engine of the van roar to life and she zipped the bag up quickly. Beth made her way to the door and Carol hefted up a bag, grabbing her gun in her free hand.

"Tell that asshat to cut the engine, unless he wants Walkers to come runnin'." Daryl barked and Beth shot him a filthy look before darting down the corridor. Carol gave him her own look and he shrugged, pulling on his crossbow and gun.

The corridor was not long, just twenty foot or so and she took a quick pace to match Beth. The girl stopped suddenly at the entrance and Carol heard her gasp from several paces away.

"Riley." She breathed.

Carol caught up to her and as she did so, she heard the voices that had been previously been muffled by the rattling engine of the van. Low, deep voices. More than one and definitely not ones that she recognised.

"Riley." Beth's breathing was ragged and she lurched forward. Carol dropped the bag in her hand before she could even think of the action, she stepped forward and grabbed Beth by the back of her jacket, yanking her off her footing and back into the darkness of the corridor.

"Sssh." She ordered, her heart pounding wildly. She pushed in front of Beth to peek through the gap in the door and spotted Riley, bent over double as another man, tall and broad, kicked him behind the knees, sending him crumbling to the floor, coughing and spluttering.

There were thee others that she could see, all men and they jeered as the tall man kicked Riley once again.

Beth fumbled behind Carol and she heard the click of a gun.

"No, Beth. No." Carol told her, pushing the gun downwards. She turned back down the corridor and finally she saw Daryl loping behind her.

"Why is that engine still -" His question was cut off when he spotted the look of anguish on Carol's face, her arms straining to hold back Beth. He pushed past them and groaned when he saw the scene before them. "Fuck!" He muttered viciously. The men stopped their chatter and turned sharply, looking all around, guns raised. He shoved Carol and Beth backwards, up against the wall.

"Fuck. How many have you seen?" He whispered, gaze flickering between them both. Beth was just staring at the gap in the door, watching the group. Daryl shook her arm roughly. "How many?" He growled.

"Just the three, so far." Carol answered desperately, pulling him off the younger girl. "We have to do something!"

"I'm going to get him." Beth pushed away from them and her fingers just curled around the door and both Daryl and Carol reached for her at the same time, the former clamping a hand over her mouth. She squirmed under their restraint and he pushed his hand down tighter to stop her making a sound. Her breathing became laboured under the force of his palm and her eyes widened as she panicked under them.

"Daryl, stop it! She can't breathe!" Carol pried at his fingers and he loosened them instantly, apparently unaware of his own strength. "Ssh, Beth. We're going to get him, he's going to be alright."

As she spoke, she heard the sound of another engine, smoother than before and the sound of doors slamming.

"What's this?" The voice was authoritive, the other men immediately fell silent as the man spoke, Daryl stood in front of them, watching the scene unfold.

"Found him running this stuff, into the van. Surgical stuff." The one who spoke kicked the bag and the metal inside clinked about.

"Who you with, young man? You can't have gotten all this alone." Carol crept forward to see a man crouching down next to Riley's head. He wore a quilted gilet, hair neatly combed, and attached to his belt was a large knife.

Riley muttered something, but it must not have been anything the man wanted to hear, because the expression on his face changed from an odd, mild curiosity, to thundery in a split second.

"No matter. We will find them." The man stood up from his crouch. "Search the building." He ordered and the men went straight for the door they had broken to get into. Before they could enter the threshold, a shot rang out and they heard the strangled cry of Simon as he rushed towards them, gun poised.

He didn't manage to release another bullet before he was tackled to the ground by half a dozen men. There were more. Carol hadn't noticed them immediately. But now they were grossly outnumbered. There were eight that she could see, but there could've been more than that even.

Simon roared with anger as he was forced to the floor, crying out his boy's name.

"Search this building!" The man commanded once more and only two men remained on top of Simon, pinning him to the floor. "Put him out before he draws the Lurkers to us!"

One man, with wild red hair nodded and he grasped for Simon's fallen rifle, lifting it above his head and slamming on the back of his head with a crack. The man fell silent mid-cry and slumped flat to the ground.

"Move fast, I want to be back in Woodbury before dark." Daryl shot Carol a look at that and she instantly remembered the name. The place they had to avoid at all costs.

"We gotta get outta here." Daryl told them. "We gotta leave the van." He leaned forward, carefully staying out of sight. "We can cut through those trees. Come out t'other side and go on foot til we get a car."

"We are _not_ leaving them." Carol looked at Daryl agape. "No!"

"No, no, no, no." Beth chanted, attempting to pull away.

"What do you want to do here, huh?" Daryl hissed, once again increasing his hold on Beth. "We are way outnumbered. We'd be dead 'fore we killed one. We know where they're from. We get back to the prison, we figure out what t'do next."

"They could be dead by then!" Carol hissed.

Beth gasped at her words and bucked once more, hands over her ears as if to block the though of Riley dying.

"We go out there and we all be dead! They want info on who else they're with, they might get it from 'em!"

Carol shifted from foot, clearly at a loss as to what to do. She wanted to go out there guns blazing. But she knew, just her and Beth and they would fail.

From behind them, in the corridor, she heard the voices of the men who had entered the building, they were getting closer to the labour ward.

"We ain't gon' win this battle Carol, we gotta go. If I gotta carry you kickin' and screamin' I will, but just know I only got the room to carry one of you." His words were harsh and he glanced down at Beth before looking back at her meaningfully.

Carol swallowed thickly. She knew what he meant to say. That if she refused, he would force her hand and Beth would get left behind if she did not go willingly either. She felt a rush of anger towards him and her fists clenched around Beth without her realising.

The voices drew closer.

"Carol."

"You want to run? Like a _coward_?" She thought the words would've made him change his mind, but he just looked at her stonily.

Finally, she nodded. "Up you get, Beth." They both lifted Beth under the armpits, pulling her upright. She protested feebly.

"No, we can't leave them." She said tearfully.

"We're going to get the Beth, we will. We'll get the others and we'll go to Woodbury. They'll be home." She didn't believe that, not really. But she had to get Beth moving. "We have to stay quiet, alright, promise me?"

Beth nodded weakily, but it was a nod all the same.

"See those trees?" Daryl pointed to the smattering of greenery just fifteen foot in the opposite direction. "We go there, keep goin'." He gripped Beth from the other side, holding her elbow tight. "One, two and go!" He ordered.

Carol ran. She didn't look back to see if she was spotted, didn't trust Beth to run alone, the girl was looking back at the scene and she and Daryl almost had to drag her into the trees.

Daryl kept them going for what felt like miles. It had to have at least been an hour. Eventually, she began to slow down, Beth lagging with her and Daryl let them stop to catch their breath for a moment. They'd made it through the forestry, stopping at the edge of trees, a small farmhouse up ahead of them.

"You alright?" He asked, as she fished in her bag for a bottle of water, popping the cap and helping a sobbing Beth to take a sip. She did not say anything, taking a pull of the water and screwing the cap on viciously. She shoved the bottle at him before going back to pull Beth up from her slumped position against a fallen tree.

"Come on." She urged her softly. Beth looked at her with sad, tear filled eyes and the sight of her made Carol want to cry herself.

"Wait here." Daryl told them, passing her back the water. "Gon' see what's up ahead, maybe a car or somethin'."

Carol nodded her understanding. It was all she could bring herself to do. They waited as he jogged of into the distance, towards the little farmhouse. It was about half an hour later when she heard the thrum of an engine, the throaty whirr of a truck that came ambling towards them.

Daryl jerked to a halt a few feet away and Carol pushed Beth into the back of the truck before clambering into the front.

"You got that map in there?" Daryl nodded to her bag, resting across her lap as they drove onto the highway.

She nodded and hunted through the mess to pull out the folded map and he pulled over to take a look at it. He didn't say anything and eventually threw the thing onto the dash, before turning the key in the ignition.

"We're 'bout 45 miles away." He said eventually. "Be there before dark."

Carol just shook her head. "We shouldn't have left." She muttered.

"Dammit Carol, we would've _died_!" He told her angrily.

"So we sacrifice them to save ourselves?" She asked, feeling her own blood boil.

"For fuck's sake...it wasn't like that, stop twistin' shit! We couldn'ta done shit! We got killed then the other's would never have known what happened to us. If those boys talk, we can still all die. We gotta warn them. Then we work on gettin' the boys back." Daryl's fist slammed against the wheel and Carol couldn't help but jump.

Carol folded her arms and turned to the window. The colours and shapes on the other side of the glass blurred into one and she found herself unable to pull her eyes away anyway.

The sun was beginning to set when any of them spoke again.

"Gettin' you out of there, that was all I was thinkin' 'bout." The words came from his lips in a quiet mutter, almost as if he resented saying them. "But we're gonna get them back. I'll go to Woodbury myself."

Carol tore her eyes away from the side of the road and brought her gaze to him. He was chewing on a hangnail, looking at her nervously.

"And I'm going too." She told him resolutely.


	18. Almost

Author's Note: Thank you very much everyone! Love you long time.

I'm sorry updates seem to be spreading out, things are very busy. Still aiming to get it finished by the season 3 premiere! Also, got two one shots on half, one of which is a one-off follow up to A Heavy Cross.

TWDTWDTWD

They didn't have the radios anymore. In fact, they had nothing. Just the weapons on their persons and Carol's bag. They had returned with even less than they had started out with. Daryl honked the horn and Carol squinted up to the watchtower and she could just make out someone waving down to them.

Less than ten minutes later, they were jumping from the truck and rushing into the side door of the prison, immediately set upon by Connor who had pulled them through the door as Glenn and T-Dog forced it shut.

"What the hell is goin' on? Where's Simon and his boy?" Connor spat the words out viciously at Carol, who clutching her stomach, trying to regain her breath. Daryl shoved her aside to push past Connor, forcing the little group up the corridor.

"Who's in the watchtower now? You need t'radio on up an' get 'em watchin' like hawks, we could be havin' some company." Daryl was dragging her up the corridor by the strap of her bag and she just managed to keep her hold on Beth's sleeve as they virtually ran through the winding passages. "RICK!" He was yelling as they approached the cafeteria, hollering at the top of his lungs as he pushed through the doors.

Most of the group were already there, forks midway to mouths as they bundled in and Daryl let her go suddenly, ramming his hand into the open flap of her bag and ripping her folded map free. There was a scuffle from across the way and Rick came running to him as he unfolded the map and pushed Lori and Carl's plates aside to lay it flat on the Formica table.

"What's going on?" Rick skidded to a stop in front of Carol and she found herself unable to watch as Daryl feverishly explained what had happened. Instead she turned away, watching as Beth tearfully approached her sister, falling into her arms.

"Carol?"

She jumped when a warm hand touched her shoulder and she whipped around to see Lori looking at her fearfully.

"You alright?"

Carol shook her head. "We just _left_ them behind, Lori." She was carefully to keep her voice low, although she was certain she wouldn't be heard now, because the men were bellowing orders across the room, shouting at one another to find weapons, gather up the missing members of the group.

"Daryl says there were at least eight men, Carol." Lori murmured, squeezing her arm. "What could've you have done?"

"Something. Anything. We didn't even try. We just ran." She sighed and rubbed her neck, pulling the bag and gun from her shoulders. "We shouldn't have."

"But you would've ended up like them. And we would be none the wiser as to what happened. You have to think of the group as a whole." Lori told her gently but Carol shrugged the other woman's arm from hers.

Lori wasn't the first to say exactly that and it was beginning to grate. "So two men are suffering instead?" Carol shook her head in disbelief. "I was prepared to fight for them...and he took that that away."

"He?" Lori looked confused. She followed Carol's gaze, she was watching Daryl as his hands gesticulated wildly. "Oh. He's did what was best, Carol. You're here and you're safe."

Carol just shook her head. Lori didn't get it. Of course, no-one would get it. She didn't understand it herself. Of course, logically, she knew that they had no chance against the others, she knew that they had to leave. Regroup and plan. But that didn't make it any easier. Didn't stop her from feeling like the worst person in the world.

She moved to listen to the conversation that was now taking place around one of the tables, where a lot of the men were crowding around her map.

"I think we should move on outta here, just for a few days, keep a watch an' see." Daryl told Rick, hands on his hips.

"No way!" Alex had jumped in before Rick could say anything. "This place is ours. Ain't givin' it up for nobody. Especially when nobody might even come!"

"You wanna risk that? This place is too damn big. We're all over t'place." Daryl replied hotly. "Rick, you wanna keep Lori and Carl here? We could take 'em out to the place we were before. It's plenty out of the way."

"I am _not_ going anywhere without Rick." Lori jumped in quickly.

"We ain't a big enough group to defend this place, if it comes down to it." Tyreese interrupted them from his position in the doorway. "Not now. We need to move, even if it's just to another area, concentrate ourselves."

Daryl nodded his head in agreement.

Carol was pretty sure that she had never, ever seen the two men agree on something before.

"And who's fault is that?" Connor spat out, pushing his chair back so fiercely it tipped onto its back legs, teetering for a moment before falling backwards to the floor with a clang. "'Cause it seems to me, since you people turned up, we seem to be losing people left, right and centre! First Swifty, then Keith and the other two boys. And now Simon and Riley! You tryin' to take us all out here?"

"Hey! That is uncalled for!" Rick jumped to his feet instantly. "We have done nothing but try to make things better for everyone here, not just ourselves -"

"You seriously thinkin' you're better off with people like Keith? For real?" Daryl jumped in and Carol saw his hand go to his crossbow and she leant over and touched him on the arm, he flinched and she flexed her fingers a little tighter around his skin.

"We need to make decisions now." She told them all, voice low. "We're wasting time. Let's just go to Woodbury. Get them back."

"We can't." Rick shook his head. "Not yet, we can't, Carol. We have to get ourselves defended here, to know what we can come against. I want everyone to shift down to the storage cells. Easiest exit point and the best hidden, I think. Tyreese?"

Tyreese nodded his agreement. "Let's get those doors shut outside, get the vehicles ready to run. We can keep a side exit open in case."

Rick nodded. "Alri-"

"Hang on? Why are we listening to this guy, Tyreese?" Connor jumped between them all, his arms swinging wildly. "This guy is a _cop_."

There was a sharp intake from breath from both Rick and Daryl and it took Carol a moment to realise why. Connor shouldn't have known Rick's previous occupation. Truthfully, it wasn't something that even crossed her mind anymore. Why would it? It didn't mean anything. Daryl and Rick, two men with completely different histories, different lives, but their worth was exactly the same now.

"We agreed that we weren't gonna discuss that." Tyreese jumped in immediately, one arm out in front of Connor. "You are though, right?"

Rick's eyes flickered from Connor and Tyreese, to the men that stood anxiously behind them. He nodded, once, definitively. "Yes. I was a police officer, before. But I'm not anymore." He looked back at the people behind him. "It doesn't change anything. I'm still just a man looking out for his family." He spread his hand behind him, not just gesturing to Lori and Carl but the others too.

"A fuckin' cop." Connor muttered, turning away.

"We didn't tell anyone because we knew how some people would react." Lori stepped forward. "We have to move now, Rick."

"Go to the cells, get your things together. Bring them down to the storage area. Bring bedding, everything that we could need for a few days. The rest of the women, you too and then head to the kitchens, stock some of the tins and things in there too, just in case we get forced into a corner or have to make a run for it."

Carol nodded and pulled her fingers from Daryl's arm, trailing behind Lori as she bounded out of the room, Carl in tow.

TWDTWDTWD

She'd packed their clothes, taking only what could fit in a backpack they could share and then hunted about in the beside cabinet for anything that was of use. A few loose rounds of ammunition hastly went into side pocket of the bag, followed up my her pocket knife, given to her by Daryl all those weeks ago, it had sat in the drawer since the last time she had used it, blood still coating the handle.

She'd followed Lori down to the storage cellars, lugging their blankets with her. There weren't many in the corridor, just ten and Axel had explained to her that the wing had previously been used for inmates in solitary confinement.

There weren't enough beds for all of them. She somehow doubted that Daryl would take the information all that well, so she quickly volunteered for them both to share with Maggie and Glenn, who were taking a shift in the watch tower before them, leaving them some space in the small cell.

"You alright?" Daryl leant against the door frame of the kitchen, watching her as she fills a box with tins.

She nods. "Mmmhmm." Carol points to the gallon drum of water on the aluminium counter top. "Can you take that down?"

Daryl stepped forward and rested his hands on the water bottle. "If they don't come here by sun-up, day after tomorrow, I'm going down there myself. Rick agreed." He spoke lowly, hesitantly.

"I would like to come too." She told him tersely, pushing a drawer shut.

Daryl let out a sigh and Carol looked up at him from the corner of her eye. He was biting his lip, looking very much like he wanted to argue with her but he thought better of it.

"I put your things in a cell with Maggie and Glenn, we have to share. There's only one bunk. But I think Maggie mentioned them being on a different watch than us anyway."

"'S fine by me." He watched her as she scooped up the last box and marched out of the kitchen without waiting for him.

She was angry with him. He'd didn't know shit about women and their way of not saying or showing how they felt, but he knew Carol well enough to know that she was holding back what she really wanted to say.

But it was not the time to hash it out with her. Not that he wanted to anyway. As far as he was concerned, he has done nothing wrong. Leaving Simon and Riley behind wasn't a cold decision and it wasn't the easiest, it was simply the only option. He knew that had it been him in a headlock in the dirt, they would've done exactly the same thing. Getting out of there, getting the women out of there and getting the word out was far more important than a foolish attempt at a rescue mission.

Besides, once he dropped off the water bottle, she was settling down in the cell and Rick was still chewing his ear off about shifts on watch and potential battle plans.

"Look, Rick, I need to get some rack, slept 'bout 5 hours in the last couple of days and I ain't gonna be up to nothin' 'fore long." He eventually told Rick, giving him a clap on the shoulder before turning away into the cell Carol was moving about in, without waiting for a response.

She was stacking boxes against the wall when he pushed the door ajar. It was heavier than the ones that they had been staying in and he doubted, what with the stuff that crowded the room, that they would be able to shut the door any amount.

She made no acknowledgment of his presence, continuing her tidying and he let her for a moment, shrugging his weapons and his jacket off. He considered unlacing his boots but decided against it. It never hurt to be prepared. They'd gotten too comfy in this place.

"Leave it. Got seven hours before we take watch an' we need to sleep." He sat on the edge of the bed as she pushed one last box over and she joined him, carefully unbuckling her belt and pulling her knife free. "Want me to sleep on the floor?" He actually wants to ask if she's still pissed at him, but he can't find the courage. Or the energy. He'll take the cold cement over an argument.

Carol's brow furrowed in confusion and she shook her head quickly. "No, course not. We can make do fine." She tugged off her cardigan quickly and throws it over a box before unfolding the blankets. "Can I ask something?"

Daryl shrugged, turning the flashlight off as they both clambered into the narrow bed, fixed tight to the cold wall.

She paused for a second and Daryl pushed her towards the inside of the bed, tucking the blanket behind the wall to keep them warm. "Would you really have left Beth behind today?"

Daryl bristled at the question, it was not what he had been expecting.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could feel Carol's eyes on him, looking up from where her head rested on the pillow.

"Yeah." He figured honesty was the best policy on that one. He would've too, if it came down to it. He didn't think it would've.

She let out a little sigh and he shimmied down the mattress to lay along side her. They were silent for a moment. Eventually he felt her shuffle onto her side, bring her face right across the pillow until their noses were almost touching.

"Don't do that." She whispered into the darkness. "She's just a kid. She's worth saving. Everytime."

He couldn't help the growl that came from the growl in the back of his throat. "We back to this shit again?" It was infuriating, to hear her speak of her own life as if it had so little value and it made him want to punch a hole in a wall.

"I know my own mind Daryl. I'm 41 years old, for goodness sake. If I make a decision like that, it's because I think that it's the best thing to do. It wouldn't be some crazy suicide mission. She's just a child. She's impulsive."

"I ain't ever gonna pick someone else, alright?" It was true. It could've been a toss up between her and Rick and he would've picked her. Hell, it could've been _Merle_ and her and she'd win. He figured that pretty much made it declaration of love. He supposed another man would've just come out and said it, but he and Carol had been going round in circles for so long now, it seemed ridiculous to be straight up about these things.

She knew what it was though, he heard the way her breath hitched in her throat.

"Get used to it, alright? I'm sorry that I made ya do what we did today, but I'd do it again. I _will_ do it again." His voice was gruff against her skin and her fingers came up and laced themselves around his shirt collar, closing the gap between them.

Her kiss was fierce, lips warm and soft against his chapped ones, pushing his lips apart to slip her tongue inside his mouth and he let her, pulling his arms under the blankets to grip her flush to him, pushing her knees apart to slide his leg between hers and hold her close.

He wondered if they could stay in that position for all of eternity. Her fingers released his shirt, creeping around his neck and he could feel himself becoming aroused with every little movement of her hips, she was subtly grinding into him circling her hips as she pushed to get that little bit closer and he feared she was going to send him over the edge of the bed.

His hands found their way down to her hips, pushing her shirt up, fingers trailing over her cool skin and he rolled them over so that he hovered above her. He broke his lips away from hers and she panted lightly from the exertion.

Sex had never been an essential part of his life. Never even been that good, really. There had always been far more important things to do than fuck. But now he could see what the appeal had been for his brother, for his father. He wanted nothing more than to shuck his clothes off, peel every layer of fabric from Carol's creamy skin and touch her.

And she seemed to share the same idea. She was tugging his hair softly, taking little shuddering breaths as he kissed her neck, making his way down to the soft swell of her breast, unbuttoning her shirt as he went.

She wasn't wearing the pink bra and he had to admit, he was relieved. He was pretty sure he'd come on the spot if she had been. Still, he wouldn't complain about this one, grey with black lace edging the top of the cups and he held his breath as his fingers traced over the fabric, as softly as he could.

He brought his hands underneath her, fiddling at the hooks against her back. After a few seconds he managed to get them free and the cups popped upwards, her breasts springing free.

She still had her shirt on and he did not bother to pull her arms free, pushing the material up onto her collarbone and bring his mouth back downwards, his mouth covering one nipple and drawing it lightly into his mouth. She bucked underneath him as his teeth grazed the hardened flesh lightly and he pushed his hand to her hip to hold her still.

"Daryl." She gasped after a moment, his mouth unlatching itself to pay attention to the other breast. Daryl said nothing and she pressed her hand to his shoulder. "Daryl, we have to stop." She whispered.

He groaned against her skin because he should've known it was coming. The door was wide open, he had been hoping they could just forget about it and carry on. They were almost there.

"Daryl." He let out a sigh and pulled his head away, drawing upwards to face her. "I want nothing more...but we have to rest up."

He nodded his understanding, even though she could hardly see him and she sat up to adjust her clothing. She lay back down, tucking herself against him.

"I wish we hadn't waited so long." She murmured, pressing a kiss against his jaw.

As his hand found it's way to the back of her neck, he found himself wishing for the exact same thing.


	19. Serenity

Author's Notes: Thank you for the lovely response to November Rain. It was very strange to write something other than Tempest for the first time in months! I have one more one shot in the works and then it's nothing but Tempest right up until I get this bad boy finished! Apologies for such a delay in updating, I went on holiday and intended on updating first, but time ran away with me.

* * *

By the time dawn broke, they had been in the watchtower for a couple of hours and Carol found her patience wearing thin. She was utterly frustrated that they paced the windows uselessly, when they could be heading to Woodbury and doing something. Anything.

But her own frustrations frightened her. For what seemed like the first time in her whole damned life, she wanted to do something that she should run right away from. Walking up to the edge of Woodbury and demanding the return of Simon and Riley would never have been something she would've done before.

This place, it was changing her. Or maybe it was Daryl. He was making her brave. Or stupid. She hadn't decided yet. But things had changed, she wasn't the same woman anymore. That was frightening.

"See somethin'?" Daryl was at her shoulder, breathing his words right into her ear. She'd been staring through the binoculars for over ten minutes now, focused on one spot.

"No." She sighed, pulling the binoculars away from her eyes. "This is a waste of time, Daryl. Simon and Riley are good men, they aren't going to give up our location, are they?"

"You wanna put ya life on that? Desperate men will do alotta shit ya don't expect when their backs are to the wall." Daryl turned away from her, going to look at the window on the other side.

Carol swallowed thickly. She hadn't expected that. She had hoped for him to say something better. Anything would do. But the truth was, if Simon and Riley were even still alive, they were probably going through hell.

"Then all the more reason to push on and be on the attack, rather than hope our defence sticks." She murmured.

Daryl sighed. "We don't know how many they are. Might be just a handful of men, might be hundreds. And what if they end up passin' us by on the way there? All our best men out on the way to Woodbury and the rest left here alone? Gotta think 'bout shit first." He explained it to her like she was a child and she could practically hear the gritting of his teeth, biting back the sarcasm and impatience that would've exploded out if he was speaking to anyone but her.

"But what if there is no way to make this better? What if we can't get them back? Or if we aren't able to defend this place?"

Daryl had considered that possibility. The very real, glaring possibility. His first instinct had be for them to cut and run. He hadn't voiced such an opinion, didn't need to, because he could see the same thought written over Rick's face.

But it was harder for Rick. Pretty soon, Lori wasn't going to be able to run at all. He had a child and a pregnant wife. He needed this prison more than anyone. It was different for Daryl.

He could just grab Carol and run. She was getting more and more capable everyday. She wouldn't be a dead weight anymore, more like an asset. He didn't mind most of them, the ones that he came to the prison with. Liked some, even. But if he had to make a run for it, she'd be his priority. It was a scary feeling, wanting to watch someone else's back. Someone he wasn't forced to watch, someone he wanted to care for.

"We deal with it if it's gonna come to it." He answered evasively, turning away from her, to hide the uncertainty that was probably written all over his face.

"Daryl..." Carol put a hand on his arm, turning him to face her.

"What do you _want_ me to say, huh?" He asked, shrugging her off and wheeled around to face her. His tone was frustrated, he knew, but he couldn't hold it in. She was asking questions that he couldn't answer. Didn't want to answer. The situation was pretty damned going to shit, whether Simon and Riley talked or not.

At very best, they were down two good men, which meant a huge dent in their dwindling group. Simon was their medic, Hershel had done them well so far, but they needed that man for more than just his muscle. Lori would need him in a few short months and if any of them had a serious injury now, they'd be fucked.

At the very worst, they were all dead. Those men from Woodbury, they wanted to know their whereabouts, he was sure of that. It wasn't some men just coming across them by chance, what on earth would a bunch of men want in a medical centre for pregnant women and babies? Sure, they could've been wanting supplies of their own, but surely there would've been places that were closer to Woodbury, after all, Carol had picked out their route because it was in the opposite direction to the town. No, he trusted his gut on this one, those people had spotted them before that, followed them there, more than likely.

He doubted that Simon and Riley, particularly the latter, would be able to keep their mouths shut. Not if they were being tortured and after the vicious display at the medical centre, he was sure they would be. He couldn't blame them if they did say something and they had to assume they would.

Carol sighed, ignoring his snapping. She knew he was worried and that he was hiding it to keep her as calm as possible. But he wasn't hiding it well enough. He had never not had an answer for her before. Was always able to think on his feet, to have a way out or a way to go. She tried to choke down the fear that seemed to be stuck in the bottom of her throat, turning to give his forearm a squeeze.

"Sorry." She muttered, giving him a small, thin lipped smile. "I know I ask too many questions."

"I just ain't got the answers for ya." He said quietly, allowing her to run her fingers up and down his arm. Her fingertips had callouses now, catching against the occassional scar on his skin and it was odd. He always thought of Carol as soft, not only in her manner but in the way her skin felt against his and now there was something distinctly harder about her. And it wasn't just the way her fingertips had hardened from the physical labour of this life, or the way her knuckles were always cut up, just like his but in the way she was determined, more determined than ever, to do the hard things. Carol was harder than ever, yet still soft in all the ways that mattered. Still compassionate, still smiling.

"It's alright. I know." Her fingertips came to a standstill at his open hand, hanging loosely at his side, inches away from his knife resting on his hip. She trailed over the creases in his palm, so light it felt like it was a breeze and his fingers snapped around her's and he felt her jump a little at the unexpected reaction. But to her credit, she didn't falter, just took that little step closer to his side.

"It's gonna be fine." He didn't know if he believed that, even as the words fell from his lips. But he needed her to believe it. Needed to have her believe in him, this group and all they could do.

She nodded once, firmly, turning her gaze from him back out onto the land that stretched out before them. He was hit with an overwhelming rush of affection for her, the way she just took what he said as gospel and he couldn't help but bend his head down to her face, her profile framed by the midday sun, shining brightly, although there was definitely a chill in the air these days. His pursed lips grazed her cheekbone trailing up to corner of her eye and he felt her cheek lift under his mouth as she smiled.

"Hey, you kids go get some lunch." Daryl jumped away from Carol like she had shocked him, looking guiltily back at Hershel who had come up the watchtower steps, Axel a few paces behind him.

If the men had seen the intimate moment between the two, then they didn't show it, merely stepping aside to let them down the stairs. He let her go first and she gave Hershel a tired smile, pausing to touch Axel's shoulder as she handed over the machine gun she held.

"You know, I think that's about the first time in twenty years that someone's called me a kid." Carol chuckled as they hit the bottom of the stairs and made their way to the glass corridor that would lead to the main prison.

Daryl said nothing, but Carol didn't seem to mind, slowing her pace to get into line with him. He was not one for chit chat. Never had been. As kids, Merle was the one with the mouth big enough for both of them and if he could get away without saying anything at all, he would. Now, this group had enough yappy mouths that he didn't feel it necessary to change the habit of a lifetime. Carol was much the same. She had enough to say with the other women, but with him she was often quiet and it was comfortable. He liked that.

Silence with her was better than a conversation with anyone else. Besides, they often did better things than talking. Like last night. It was still on his mind. The feel of her body under his, squirming with pleasure. The soft swell of her breast, warm in his mouth. Why now? Why hadn't they gotten to this point sooner? Because he was chicken shit. A total coward. But now, there wouldn't be an opportunity to get down to what he really wanted to do.

Not unless...they'd been making their way down the winding corridors towards the cafeteria hall. The only room they were using, aside from the storage wing. He was sure they could get away with not going back there for lunch for a little while. If she wanted to.

He grabbed Carol by the arm before he could chicken out and she gasped as he tugged her around a corner, a dark passage way he had barely used before.

"Daryl, what are -" He cut her question off with a kiss, hard and fierce, pushing her up against the wall of the corridor, pressing the entire length of his body up against hers, holding her there.

She froze at first, lips unmoving against his and he almost pulled away, deciding that this was entirely the wrong way to go about it. But as if she knew, sensed his hesitation, she relaxed under him, opening her mouth to let him in, bringing her arms up from her sides and winding them into his hair, clutching the strands tight in her fingers.

He wondered how on earth she managed to taste so sweet, when neither of them had taken care of proper hygiene in days. It was as if she had just taken a spoonful of honey, her tongue smooth and wet against his, fighting against his as he pushed further into the wall.

He was hard, unbelievably hard against her thigh and the friction of her body writhing against him was almost too much to handle. He nudged her legs apart with his knee, pushing his own in between and she let out a breathy gasp into his mouth, hands tightening around his hair.

His hands had been at her waist, but now they trailed up her stomach, pulling her shirt free from her jeans and coming to the edges of her jacket, yanking it off her shoulders, forcing her hands from his hair to tug it off entirely, throwing it the floor.

He fumbled with her buttons clumsily and she brushed him away with shaking hands, tearing them open quicker than he could and he pulled back just enough to get his own shirt off, throwing it to the side to put his palms back on the flat of her stomach, her skin warming already.

Without conscious thought, his lips came from hers, trailing down her jaw and back up to the soft spot behind her ear, kissing and sucking at her as if his life depending on it. Her breath was ragged now, little gasps of pleasure breaking free as his hardness pressed into with rhythm now, her hips bucking against him, hands at his belt to hitch him closer.

Daryl pulled the straps of her bra down her arms, tugging at the cups of the garment to free her breasts, groping at the flesh, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Her breathing reached a frenzied pitch, her hands frantic at his belt, fussing at his belt to undo it.

"More." Carol hissed the word into his ear and he felt heat pool in his stomach. Hearing her tell him she wanted more, it made him bolder than he ever thought he would be with her, more than he had been so far and he tore his hands away to push down her pants, panties going down with them.

Her hands froze at his zipper as the jeans fell to the floor, she seemed to stop breathing as his hand went to her hot notch, pressing his palm against her.

She was wet, slippery as he moved his fingers slickly up and down her entrance and his teeth pressed against her collarbone as he marvelled at the feel of her.

"Fuck." He groaned against her skin. "_Fuckin' hell." _She was clenching around his fingertips, which he had barely slid inside her and she shuddered, her legs shaking hard.

Her hands were moving again and she finally managed to get his pants undone, ripping the zipper down and sliding her hand inside his pants, cupping his dick gently as she rasped against his neck.

"Dammit, Carol." He spat out, pulling his hand from her cunt to wrench her hand out of his pants. "Come on." He released from her pinned position against the wall and took her by the wrist, giving her only a split second to pull her jeans up before dragging her down the corridor and kicking open the door.

Daryl quickly realised they were in the medical wing and the door led to one of the offices there. There was a worn looking brown couch against one wall and he dragged Carol to it, give her a push so that she collapsed backwards in a quivering heap.

Her tits were spilling out from the cups of her bra, heaving up and down with her shaky breathing and he took a moment to look at her lying there, looking lust-drunk, jean clad legs spread wantonly for him. He'd never seen her like that before, but he found he liked it.

He leant over her, pulling her jeans back down, pulling them off her legs, boots going at the same time and he tossed them aside as she leant forward and unhooked her bra, throwing it on the arm of the chair.

He wanted to taste her. He wanted to put his lips on her and suck and lick her until she came in his mouth. He pushed her knees apart, gripped her hips and dragged her to the edge of the sofa and leant forward. His mouth grazed the top her slit and her thighs closed around his ears, muffling the sound of her cry.

Just as he pulled back slightly, to unclench her legs and give him better access, her hands wrapped around his skull, rearing his head back.

"No." She heaved out. "Can't wait." She was pulling him upwards by his hair and he yelped in pain, clutching her wrists to lessen her hold. He came up with her anyway, deciding that he would taste her later, he was convinced he would come at any moment anyway.

He shucked his pants off, boots and socks going with them and he climbed over her, running his hand up her thighs and over her stomach and chest, almost reverently and Carol felt as though she was being worshipped.

If she was being truthful, it was not because she could not wait for him to enter her that she stopped him from going down there. It was because she couldn't remember a time when it had ever happened before.

Ed never had. Would never entertain the idea and the thought of lying there, exposed, even for Daryl, who she trusted absolutely implicitly, made her blush. The way he looked at her, lust in his eyes, fingers itching to lay themselves on her, _in her_, it made her heart race, not just with excitement but with nerves. She wasn't ready for that.

Daryl hovered above her, knees against her thighs and she could feel his breath, slow and heavy now, spreading over neck and jaw. He gazed down at her and she smiled up at him, reaching down between them to take his hard dick in her hand, rolling the silken skin over the hard muscle.

"Please." She pleaded.

He swallowed thickly and leaned inwards, face burying itself in her neck as she guided him inside her. He was slow, with that first thrust, easing gently and once he got halfway inside her, she pulled her hand away, clutching the small of his back.

As he pushed fully inside her, her walls stretching to accomodate him, she shifted her hips, getting used to the feeling of fullness. It had been a long time, for both of them and even longer for her to actually have enjoyed the act.

He was slow and soft with her, at first, groaning and grunting into her neck, occasionally his teeth found her skin, grazing her lightly as he tried to keep himself in check. She could feel him, tense, she thought maybe he trying his hardest not to come too soon.

"Harder, _please_, Daryl." She was begging openly now, thrusting her hips upwards, so their pelvic bones jarred together, desperate to get her own release.

"_Fuck." _He muttered, but he obliged anyway, running his hand under her left thigh, pushing it upwards and using it to brace himself as pressed into her, as deep as he could manage, increasing his pace. Daryl pulled his head back to look at her, her head lolling back in pleasure, fingers scratching lightly at his back.

She was tensing under him and he wasn't certain, but he thought she was close to the edge, her gasps becoming her breathier and higher pitched and he held out a little bit longer. He wanted to see her ride out her orgasm, her first one with him.

He hadn't even finished the thought, when she started bucking under him wildly, chest heaving with exertion and she let out a final cry, eyes squeezed tightly shut, stilling immediately.

It was all he could take, he pushed one hand onto her stomach and plunged into her with reckless abandon, fingers tightening around her thigh and with a final thrust he came inside her, slumping against her, both sticky with perspiration from the exertion.

They lay there silently for a moment, revelling in the moments that had passed between them. Finally, Daryl lifted himself upward, pulling his softening dick from her and rolling to slump next to her.

He watched her as she slowly regained her senses, taking deep breaths, drawing her knees to her chest and he sensed her embarassment, not at what they had done, he wasn't that insecure about himself, but maybe embarassed at the way she was exposed, in the middle of the day.

Carol could feel his eyes on her and she turned to meet them, giving his a small smile. She was reassured when he smiled, his usual crooked half-smile and reached out and rested his hand on her thigh.

"We should get back, before we're missed." She said finally. She could quite happily lay on the sofa, spent, warmed by the glow of the sun, burning through the window, all day, but she knew, that even the half hour or so that they'd been gone from the watchtower would raise questions.

Daryl stood up first, reaching out a hand to help her up and they hunted around for their fallen clothing. As she leant over to pull her shoe of the floor, she felt his hand skim over her back, stopping at her butt and give her a squeeze. She let out a small giggle that was most peculiar for her and swatted his hand away.

"Where the heck is my shirt?" Carol muttered as she pulled her bra on, hooking it into place. He loved that after all the time they'd spent together, her listening to his foul mouth, she still used words like "heck".

"Corridor. I'll get 'em." He brushed past her and she heard his footsteps retreating up the passage as she leant over to scoop up her other shoe, half tucked under the sofa.

As her fingertips grazed the shoe, she felt the cold hardness of what she knew to be metal and frowned. She got to her knees to inspect further and quickly realised there was a lot of metal under the couch. Tossing her shoe aside, she slid one hand underneath and gripped on the narrow object.

It was a gun. A gun very similar to one the ones she had pulled from the guard's storage all those years ago. She pushed it up onto the sofa and looked again.

She heard Daryl's footsteps returning as she pulled fifth weapon free and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What the hell?" He muttered. He handed her her shirt, brushing her gently to the side to kneel at the edge of the sofa and he pushed it over. There was one more gun underneath, several boxes of ammunition and a few cans of mace. "Who the fuck put this here?"

"Why would they do that?" She asked, buttoning her shirt as she went.

Daryl shook his head in confusion. "Gotta tell Rick." He gathered up the guns and handed her the mace and ammunition once she'd tied up her shoes. "Come on."

And just like that, the serenity she had felt only moment ago had vanished.


	20. Betrayal

Author's Notes: Thank you for your wonderful reviews and for taking the time to read. The action begins! Already got the next chapter panned out, so hopefully it will be in a few days!

"Who do you think it is?" Rick ran a hand through his overgrown curls, pacing the width of the corridor and staring down at the pile of the of illicit weapons on the floor.

Carol leant against the window frame, watching the two men nervously. Both were clearly rattled with the new information. Things were tense enough, so she had been told, whilst they'd been away.

Connor was not happy with Rick admitting to being a cop and frankly, Carol was surprised. He'd always been decent to them, from the moment they stepped into the prison and Tyreese had vouched for him from the offset. But he wasn't the only one with a problem. Adam, the man who Carol had once caught with a knife at Daryl's back during an argument, had been giving them some trouble, along with a few other supporting voices.

It could be anyone. They'd barely settled here and now it was all being ripped to shreds in a matter of days.

Daryl shook his head, the edge of one finger in his mouth. "You'll never get it outta them. Adam, maybe? He's got a couple of guys who used t'hang 'round Keith and those other two dirtbags. But Connor, you say he got pretty pissed atcha?"

Rick nodded and sighed.

"Rick, think it's time we cut loose here." Daryl whispered the words low, giving Carol a brief look.

"There are some good men here, Daryl. Men worth having on our side." Rick's tone was almost pleading, it was unnerving. "I am not prepared to let this prison slip through our fingers, this is ours."

Daryl let out a groan, running a hand over his face and turning away from Rick in displeasure.

"Daryl, you in on this?" Rick had one hand on his hip and the anxiousness on his face made Carol feel sick. "I need to know who I've got here. I need you to be on my side."

Daryl sighed and looked up. He gave Carol a glance and she saw the unspoken question in his expression. He wanted her agreement.

She wasn't sure what the right thing to do even was. But it wouldn't feel right to leave, not when others would stay. They'd gotten this far together. She gave him the briefest of nods and he let out another sigh.

"We gotta find out who these fuckers are, can't waste time on any more of this shit." Daryl kicked at the barrel of one of the guns, sending it crashing into the others. "We go to Woodbury, Rick. At least scout out the area."

Finally, Rick nodded an agreement. "At dawn, then. We'll aim to get there before dawn, take a look around. You'd recognise the van you saw? The men?"

"Of course." Daryl's retort was scornful.

"I want to go too." Carol stepped forward, getting right between Rick and Daryl.

"You gotta stay here." He said it immediately, she's hardly gotten her words out and she opened her mouth to protest but Rick cut her off.

"I need you to look after Lori, Carl too. Especially when we can't trust half the men in here." Rick snuck a furtive look at Daryl and Carol did not miss the way their eyes met, as though they had silently and immediately had an understanding that they would keep her in the prison.

"There are plenty of people who can do that. Besides, I saw them too, got a better look, even."

She looked from one man to the other, gave them a steely stare, but she could tell from their silence that nothing she could say would make a difference. She considered just arguing anyway, just to unleash some frustration, but instead, just turned on her heel, heading into the cafeteria.

"She ain't goin'." Daryl told him flatly, tearing his eyes from Carol's retreating figure to look back to Rick, who was crouched on the floor, gathering up the weapons.

"I know. She can keep watch in the tower or something. We'll keep her busy."

Daryl was satisfied with the other man's answer and knelt beside him to scoop up the rest of the guns.

It wasn't that he didn't think Carol was capable. She could handle a weapon. He was immensely glad for that. She was physically fit enough for it too and he had to admit he had been surprised to discover that. But she wasn't hard enough. He didn't think she'd be able to cut it when it came down to the fight that would inevitably happen. If they went to Woodbury and opportunity to find and recover Simon and Riley came about, they would have to take it. There could be battle. There could be bloodshed. He didn't want her involved in that.

"How the hell did you even find them anyway?"

Daryl gave a shrug. "Just decided t'go take a look 'round the medical wing, see what was there."

Rick raised one eyebrow. "And there were just sitting there?"

He cleared his throat before he answered. Daryl hated lying. He was a shit liar at the best of times. "They were tucked under a couch, Carol saw 'em."

Rick still looked puzzled. Like something wasn't clicking and Daryl shifted from one foot to the other.

"Seems stupid of them, leaving something like that to be spotted." The sheriff said slowly, head tilted in thought. "Maybe they wanted them to be found."

"Naw." Daryl replied softly, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "We had to dig for 'em. Carol's shoe went under there." He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks as Rick finally realised what might have gone on in the abandoned office.

Rick's eyebrows drew up. All the way up. "Alright. We'll leave that part out." Daryl gave him a nod of appreciation. "Do you think there's any chance that whoever did this, did it for reasons other than some sort of coup?"

"No. Mace ain't gonna do shit to anythin' but people. It's for us."

Rick sighed once more. "I was just hoping. Should've learnt by now that it doesn't go like that these days. Let's get this over with."

"Gather everyone up, we need a discussion." Rick directed his words to Tyreese as he tossed the can of mace onto an empty table.

Tyreese's face wrinkled in confusion and he rose from his seat, where he sat next to Carol. Daryl frowned at the scene. She was bent close, apparently in the middle of whispering something to him. He figured it was about what they had found but he couldn't stop the jealousy rising from nowhere and twisting his stomach into knots. They had just fucked, for the first time, and now she was in touching distance of _him_?

He hated Tyreese. He hated himself for hating Tyreese. Right now, that giant of a man should be the last thing on his mind. He'd just had sex with Carol, something that had literally been months in the making. If there was any way to give a big 'fuck you' to Tyreese, it was what had went on just a half hour ago.

He wasn't a bad man. He knew that. Soft, sure, way too soft but he didn't mean any harm and he was getting better at making the tough decisions. But Daryl would never be able to get past the fact that the man wanted Carol. _His_ Carol. He knew how men's minds worked. How his own mind worked. He knew that Tyreese was likely to be thinking of his wanting to kiss Carol. To do other things to her, just as Daryl did himself. He had to stop that train of thought, when he realised his fingers were curled so tightly around the barrels of the guns that his knuckles were turning white.

Tyreese looked down at the collection on the table and back up at the two of them.

"I think...I'll go get the other men first." Tyreese made a steady pace down to the storage cells and Daryl saw from the corner of his eye, the man sliding the hammer he wore on his belt, free.

"What's going on?" Lori came from one of the other tables, Carl quick on her heels.

"We've got a problem." Rick muttered.

"What do you -" Lori started but Rick cut her off with an outstretched hand.

"We wait for them all to get here."

It seemed to take forever to everyone to sit down together, all except Axel and Hershel, still keeping watch in the tower. Hershel, he knew to be clean of any wrongdoings, that was easy and he was pretty sure on Axel too. The old man took a beating not long after they took the damned things. He was walking about now, but he wasn't all that quick on feet and he would be overpowered by most of the people inside the prison. If Daryl needed any further confirmation, Axel carried a weapon anyway and he had enough ammunition to put a bullet in every skull inside the place. His gut trusted Axel.

"We have a problem." Rick began, as everyone shifted closer to look at the pile of metal on the table. "This was found in one of the offices in the medical wing. It had to have been stolen from one of the storage cells. I want to know who is responsible." His tone was threatening and Daryl was glad.

"If people got a problem with the way things are run 'round here, they ain't under any obligation to stay." Tyreese took a step forward, looking at them all, one at a time. "If people wanna talk it out, talk it out. No time for this shit, not when we could potentially be havin' a lot more trouble 'round here."

"Trouble started when we let these lot in." Connor spat the words out, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

"So this had somethin' to do with you?" Tyreese asked quickly.

"No!" Connor yelled. "I don't need to hide my fucking problem with these lot. I ain't no pussy, Tyreese. You all know when I got something to say."

Rick's eyes flickered over to Daryl, giving him a nod, as if to say that what Connor said was true. He took the opportunity to look at the crowd of people in front of him, as Tyreese and Connor argued back and forth some more, watching the reactions of others.

He was pretty sure he knew who it was. Adam. The creepy little bastard who almost put a shank in his back. He could tell by the way he shifted from foot to foot, jumpy as hell. He practically reeked of betrayal. There was another not far from him. Reeves. Short, damn short for a man, Carl wasn't much shorter than him and he was as hairy as a mammoth, except for the big shiny halo of skin on his head. There was something about him too. He didn't give too much away and Daryl didn't know enough about him to be certain but there was just that feeling.

He gave a jerk of his head to Rick, silently indicating his thoughts and Rick gave him a nod in return.

"Adam." Rick called across the circle of people and the man's head snapped to attention. "You got something you want to say?"

"Nope. Ain't nothin' to do with me." Adam said hastily, taking a step back from the group, half shielding himself behind Leon.

"Fuckin' liar." Daryl muttered and all eyes to turned to him as the words left his lips.

"Fuck you, man! You don't know shit!" Adam pointed a finger angrily over Leon's shoulder and the action left Daryl snarling.

"I know you're fuckin' lyin' and if I gotta beat the tar outta ya to prove it, I will." He took two quick steps forward and instantly he felt hands wrap around his shoulders, wrenching him backwards. "Leave me go!" He yelled to the crowd behind him, the anger seeming to boil up from nowhere. There was no _time_ for this childish shit. They needed to be done with this and working on getting to Woodbury.

"_No_." Carol's voice floated over the other protests and requests for him to calm it and he felt her cool palm among the sea of unwanted touches, fingers pressing into the crook of his elbow. "We're not doing this again."

She was thinking of Randall, he knew. He didn't enjoy that. Hurting that kid wasn't something he wanted to do, but he was the only one willing to do it. But now, there was no innocence to be had among these men and gone were the days where they could foolishly see the best in anyone.

He stopped pulling against the human restraints and they all slackened, all except hers. He shrugged their hands free and Carol only gripped him a little tighter.

She looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes, her head shaking from side to side. "No. Don't. Couldn't bear to see you do that again." Her voice was low, the words so quiet he doubted anyone but him could hear them but he just turned his head away and shrugged her off.

She watched him kill Keith. Practically encouraged it, what with her final words to the sick fuck. Adam had wanted to kill him, she had witnessed it, so what was so special about this one? What changed this time?

"We're gonna find out who is responsible for this." Tyreese stepped forward. "If Daryl's gotta do it his way, I am for it. We are facing real danger here, boys. We've heard the rumours about Woodbury and they're far worse than anything dead running 'round here."

Was Tyreese agreeing with him? He couldn't believe it. Tyreese the fucking pacifist? Well, fuck, that was unexpected.

"Reeves. You got something to say?" Rick put one hand on his hip and stood shoulder to shoulder with Tyreese.

"Not to a stinkin' cop." Reeves growled. "Nothin' good anyhow."

"There ain't cops anymore!" Tyreese's voice was louder now, the man clearly frustrated. "Just like there ain't cons! It's dead or undead. Take your pick. I want answers. Now."

There was silence for a moment. Just the sound of people shuffling from foot to foot, looking around at each other, waiting for someone to speak.

"You think it's these two?" Tyreese directed his query to Daryl and Rick and Daryl nodded quickly, Rick following suit. "Fine. Let Daryl get it out of you." He threw his hands up in the air in defeat, turning away from the men.

Daryl put his hand to his knife, stepping forward towards Adam. He wasn't about to take control of this in front of everyone, not in front of _her_, but he hoped the action would be enough to force a confession from them. He gripped the other man by the scruff of the collar, ignoring his yelp of protest. There was no time for him to react in any other man and it was easy for Daryl to drag him towards the door.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Reeves go to bolt in the other direction, but Tyreese blocked his way and Rick was right behind him, locking his arms behind his back and pushing him in the same direction.

Daryl ignored Carol's look of horror as he passed her, clutching his knife tighter in his fist and letting Adam feel the blade on the back of his neck as he marched him out of the room.

"Alright, alright!" Reeves spluttered the words out right behind him and the small procession came to a halt just outside the door to the cafeteria. "It was us. Me and Adam."

Adam let out a yell of frustration and Daryl swiftly elbowed him to shut up.

"It was us. We were gonna get outta here." Reeves dropped his eyes to the ground and Rick dropped his hands from the man in disgust.

"Let's lock them up." Tyreese announced. "We'll deal with them once we've dealt with Woodbury."

"No." Rick sighed and leant against the corridor wall. "No more locking men up."

Daryl felt Adam relax under his grip and he made to voice his protest at letting them get away with it, when Rick spoke again.

"They have to go."

He raised an eyebrow at that. Rick wanted to _kill_ them? Killing them wasn't even on his mind, not yet anyway.

"We take them out of here. They have to make their way on their own."

"No way! Fuck you, Rick, we were here years before you fuckin' idiots!" Adam screamed at Rick in fury and Daryl sharpened his grip on him.

Tyreese nodded his agreement with Rick. "There's rope in the office up the hall. We could bind 'em up. Drive them out, leave them somewhere away from Walkers, leave a knife in reach." He shrugged as though it were one of many options and Rick nodded his head in agreement.

"Sound plan to me."

The men were trussed and tossed into the back of his truck, along with a knife and a small bag of supplies. Tyreese and Alex volunteered to take them out and Daryl didn't mind letting them use his truck. He wanted to get the maps out and figure out what they were going to do about Woodbury, rather than fuss over a couple of pricks who didn't deserve what they were getting.

The truck had been gone not even fifteen minutes when Carol approached him as he began unravelling maps from tubes.

"Really?" She asked, expecting him to understand what she meant. He did, of course, but he decided to feign ignorance and hope that it got him somewhere. "You were going to hurt them." A statement, not a question.

He just looked at her, turning his attention to the maps.

Carol let out a deep breath and he could sense her wanting to say more.

"It got done, didn't it? Gotta keep this group safe. Whatever it takes." He growled at her. This was exactly why he didn't want her coming to Woodbury, because after everything they had been through, every new skill she had attained, she still didn't understand.

"We've got company." The words came from Rick's belt, crackling through the radio. "Two jeeps. Can't count heads yet."

Everyone seemed to freeze, mid task for a moment, all wearing similar looks of horror and Rick was the first to respond.

"Carol, Connor, you get up that watch tower, keep those weapons trained on them. Do not fire until you have an order." Rick picked up a radio from the table and tossed it over to Carol. All previous arguments with Connor, forgotten in the face of danger.

She picked up on of the rifles from the stolen loot, stuffing it with ammunition as Rick spoke. He barked orders at the rest of them, ordering Lori, Carl and Beth to hide with some of the others, handing out weapons as he did so.

"Glenn, you're in charge of everyone here. Connor, send Hershel back down, we want the strongest sharpshooters up there."

Daryl reached over to Carol and grabbed her arm. "You stay down, you hear?" He hissed at her. "Don't let 'em spot you. They see shooters, you'll be the first fuckin' targets."

His voice was low and angry, but he couldn't help it. She nodded at him wide-eyed. She reached up and squeezed his fingers, before prising them off her skin. "It'll be okay. I can do this." She murmured with a weak smile. It didn't reach her eyes though. She was still angry with him. Maybe not angry. Disappointed. Somehow that was a million times worse.

And then she was turning away, jogging behind Connor, rifles in hand, looking every inch the soldier he needed her to be. Not wanted though. Never wanted her to have to be like this.

His heart swelled with a rush of pride and sunk like lead when he realised that this shit could go horribly wrong. How the fuck did they go from the perfection of their earlier tryst to this?


	21. Trap

Author's Notes: Thank you for taking the time to read and review.

Daryl felt nervous, heading out across the top wall of the yard, climbing down the ladder that took them outside the perimeters of the prison. It was a new sensation, because all his life, he had never once backed down from a fight. Never really feared going into the unknown. Not like everyone else in this world. He was made for this place.

Maybe it was his shitty excuse for a childhood, where Merle and his daddy beat up on him everyday, but he knew where he stood with a punch or a kick. He knew how bad pain could get and he could let his mind drift over it nowadays. Huh, he never figured he'd be grateful for a proper Dixon upbringing, but it worked in his favour.

But now he felt the uncomfortable sensation of nerves, the fluttering in his stomach that had only ever made it's appearance in front of a judge in court or more recently, when he'd been with Carol. And they were still to do with Carol, but not because he was with her, but because he _wasn't_.

She was too far away. Up there on her perch, she was the first candidate to be taken out if shit went down and it was a scary thought. If they had to cut and run, he wouldn't be able to get to her. Not on time. He knew how long it would take him to get to her, a minute or so to run to the ladder, another three minutes to climb up and over the wall, depending on how many Walkers there were in the yard, it could be another five minutes to cross to the tower and get up it. He'd be lucky if he could do it in ten minutes. A lot of people could get killed in ten minutes.

It was definitely the man they had seen back at the medical centre. The one who sounded like a fucking politician. He looked far too clean. They all had that rumpled, creased look about them now, even straight after a scrub in the shower, Carol and the other women had long given up any attempts at ironing. But this man, he had creases ironed into the front of his pants, his shirt, crisp and fresh. It was odd.

He lead the men, striding towards them, hands on his hips. They weren't that badly matched, he had five men behind him, whilst Daryl and Rick had T-Dog and Maggie. They had weapons, guns holstered and one or two held machetes.

Daryl itched to pull his own gun out. He'd left his crossbow behind, there hadn't been time to retrieve it and he cursed his own stupidity in letting it out of his sight. His fingers fluttered at his waistband, the gun tucked neatly behind his knife sheath, but Rick held a hand out towards him, low and urgent.

"Wait." He hissed. "Just wait a bit."

Daryl's hand stilled. The men were talking amongst themselves as they approached, laughing good naturedly to each other, as if it were an everyday stroll and they were about to meet friends.

"Howdy, there." The man at the front stopped about ten foot from them, pulling his hand from his waistband to give them a languid wave of his hand. "Welcome to the neighbourhood."

"We've been around a fair while." Rick said with a tight smile. "Few months in fact."

"Really? You have been keeping to yourselves. We usually come by this area every couple of weeks or so." The man's tone was still jovial, filled with benign curiosity. "The name's Phillip Blake. I'm the governor over at Woodbury, a little ways west of here."

"I've heard of it." Rick told him curtly. "In fact, I hear you may have taken a couple of our men there?"

The governor's smile slipped some, but he quickly rearranged his face, so quickly, Daryl thought maybe he was the only one to see it. He shook his head slowly. "No, not that I know of. Woodbury's gettin' pretty big, but I usually greet all newcomers in person. You think they came over recently?"

Rick nodded. "Just a couple of days ago. Pretty sure it was you."

Daryl let his lip curl into a snarl at the bare faced lies of the governor and the man's eyes flitted over to him, giving him the once over.

"We'll keep an eye out for them." He said finally. "We just wanted to make our faces known. You see, this territory, this land belongs to us."

There was a beat of silence for a moment. Daryl felt Glenn's eyes flicker round them in confusion.

"And when newcomers arrive, they usually prefer to join us in town. It's safe, no dead running around. We have electricity, water, plenty food. Our kids go to school, our men go to work. Life goes on for us."

Rick shook his head in disbelief. "This prison is ours. We spilled blood for it. We're not up for sharing. We're not interested in Woodbury. We're only interested in the safe return of our men."

One of the men behind the governor let the grin slide off his face, hands fluttering near his holstered gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Rick warned, jerking his head to the watchtower. Daryl forced himself not look to see if Carol was in view, but found himself hoping she was not. "You seem to be under the illusion that things are new for us around here. We've been around awhile and we're not small in numbers."

The governor looked up at the watchtower a moment before focusing back on them.

"We mean no harm, here. You're taking a rather aggressive stance."

"We've been nice to strangers before now and it's never lead to anything good. This land is _ours_. If you return here again, it better be with our men. Then we'll talk some more." Rick dismissed them with a flick of his hand and Daryl had to give the man some credit, he had balls.

The governor paused for a moment, his men bristling with anger around him. "I know that in due course, you'll come around to the Woodbury way of thinking." He backed up, never once taking his eyes of Rick and his men formed a circle around him.

They took their time getting back to their cars. Again, chatting as if what had happened was nothing.

"Oh, I forgot." The governor, tapped his forehead, as if something had just come to mind, although Daryl could tell that it was all an act. The man was about to play his trump card. "You got a...Daryl, around here? Daryl Dixon?"

His heart stopped. Time froze and he heard the sharp intake of breath of some of the those around him and from the corner of his eye he could see T-Dog looking at him. The governor saw too and smiled right in his direction. He opened the door to the jeep, got in and leant out of the open window. "Your brother told me to say hello."

_Well, shit. _

Daryl jerked the gun out of his waistband, lunging forward towards the car without thinking, without seeing. The governor barked out a laugh and the engine kicked up and peeled off into the distance before he'd even gotten half way there.

"No, Daryl!" Rick caught him by the shoulder, jerking him back with both hands.

"Get offa me! That sonnova bitch, Imma kick his ass!"

"No! Daryl, hold off!" Rick tightened his hold and suddenly T-Dog was behind him, wrapping his arms around his midriff pinning his wrists to his side, locking him into one spot. "No, Daryl! It's a trap!"

The two cars sped off into the distance and Daryl's body stilled against T-Dog and Rick. Their grip slackened and he shrugged them off aggressively.

"I don't give a fuck! He's got my brother!" Daryl took two steps towards the direction the jeeps had taken off, even though there was no chance of catching up.

"Got? He hasn't _got_ your brother, Daryl." Rick stepped towards him, arms outstretched. "_Think. _It's been a long time since Atlanta. How the hell would Merle know you were here? Because there's no way these people would know you were here just by looking at you. And how long? Has he been following us?"

Daryl brought his hand to his eye, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye, stinging with rage. The hot, white anger that consumed him just a moment ago began to ebb away and he tried to focus on Rick's words. forcing him back to reality.

"They gotta be watching the place." Glenn offered up. "Maybe Merle was one of them. Maybe he didn't know we were here until he saw Daryl. Or one of us."

"Let's get inside, see what we can figure out."

"Ain't nothin' for me to figure out. I'm gonna go to Woodbury an' I'm goin' today." He muttered to Rick, pushing past the men to get back into the prison. He was all for going that second, but he quickly he realised he needed his crossbow and some more ammunition.

"Connor, stay up in the tower, I want you and Axel watching out for those guys. Keep tabs on their direction as long as you can and make sure we don't have any stragglers. Send Carol down to meet us in the mess hall, quick as you can." Rick barked the order down the radio and Daryl turned to give him a dirty look. He knew why Rick had called Carol down - an attempt to get him to stop in his tracks.

As they made their way back inside, he could hear Glenn talking nervously but he tried to tune him out.

"Maybe, those guys. Those ones with Keith? They got away, we never saw no Walkers that looked like them. It could've been them. They'd be pretty angry."

"Yeah, could be." Rick agreed.

Daryl didn't wait for the gathering group at the mess hall, pushing through to the storage cells to pick up his crossbow. He ignored the others as they came out of their hiding spots, wanting answers and he didn't stop his gathering of ammunition and weapons until he heard Carol's voice in the hallway, her light footsteps on the metal hallway floor.

He had expected begging and pleading, braced himself for the look he knew he would get, the one that made his innards twist and churn, made him feel like the lowest piece of shit on the planet.

What he didn't expect from her was her to come striding in, kicking the door as far shut as it could go and immediately launch herself at her backpack, tearing out clothes and toiletries at an alarming pace and replacing them with bottles of water and snack bars. When the bag was zipped shut, she tugged her jacket on, pulled the bag over her shoulder.

He could hear the click of her rifle as she pulled it apart and the clink of ammunition as she loaded it into the weapon. He straightened up from loading the bolts into the homemade quiver and she gave a tight lipped smile.

"Tyreese is on his way back, we can take the truck." She murmured before clicking the gun shut and shouldering it.

"_We_?" He leant forward and tugged the gun off of her shoulder. "Ain't no we."

"Yes." She tore it out of his hands and pulled it back on. "There is."

"I don't want ya to go." He spat out at her. There wasn't time for this. No time for laboured goodbyes and pleas for him to stay. So he wielded his words like weapons, because it didn't matter if she was pissed at him, at least she'd be safe inside the prison walls. Or safer, anyhow.

"Well, thankfully, I can make my own decisions about where I go." Carol's tone was light, dismissive almost. But she chose that voice deliberately, the last thing she wanted him to hear was the panic that coarsed through her veins. "You're going to have your hands full with finding Merle, so I'll look for Simon and Riley."

"You're not comin'." Daryl repeated, turning away to pick up the crossbow.

"You don't get to do that, Daryl." Her voice got a little shriller and she cleared her throat. "You don't get to tell me what I can do. You don't get to tell me I get left behind."

"Dammit, Carol! This ain't the time to fuckin' worry 'bout gettin' left out! This is Merle! My brother! There's a whole heap of shit goin' on -"

"Exactly! There is too much to do. If that man - the Governor - told you about your brother, it's because he wants you there. They are using the knowledge against you, they know you're going to go." She stopped her own screeching and waved her hand out at him. "But then, you're a smart man, I'm sure you know you'd be walking into a trap."

Daryl swallowed thickly and blinked at her. Carol smiled inwardly, pleased that he was finally listening to her. She could literally see the calm wash over him as she managed to delay his exit. She knew she couldn't stop him. She wouldn't stop him. But she wanted him to think clearly, see straight.

Rick had called her down to persuade him to change her mind, but she had absolutely no intention of doing so. Daryl would not be stopped. He had every right to go find out what happened to Merle.

But she'd be lying if she said that was her only motive. She wanted to get Simon and Riley back. They deserved the help. She was using a different angle with Rick, though. They _needed_ Simon. For Lori's sake.

"And Rick and Glenn are coming too." She told him quickly. She knew that it wouldn't go down well.

"I don't want y'all comin'! It's too risky! And if I know anythin' about my brother, it's that he's gonna wanna kill Rick."

"I take it back." She huffed out, exasperated. "You aren't all that smart. Why don't you get it? We are your friends. No-one is letting you go this alone. You can't...you can't be with me like we were this morning and expect me to just watch you walk. You said to me last night, that you weren't going to pick someone else. That you'd always save me."

Daryl averted his gaze as she stepped forward, wrapping her fingers around his wrist.

"I feel exactly the same. I am _always_ going to follow you, Daryl."

She waited until he finally looked up at her and she couldn't read his expression. "You gotta do what I tell you, ya hear? Whatever I say?"

Carol nodded firmly. "I promise." She let go of his wrist. "Let's get out of here."

She gave him another thin smile, the strongest she could muster and turned for the door.

Just as her hand curled around the edge, his hand clamped over hers, his body right up against her back.

"Whatever I say?" He murmured into the bristly curls of hair near her ear.

She nodded. "Whatever you say." Carol repeated, turning her head to meet his and pressing her lips against his mouth.

He kissed her like it would the last time they'd ever touch, fierce and rough, she was sure he would leave her lips sore and swollen by the time they were done and even though it gave her great pleasure to be with him like this, it terrified her too. It was like a goodbye and that was too awful to contemplate.

She clutched the side of his neck, as much as she could reach as she twisted her own neck around to kiss him properly. Despite the awkward position, she could have stayed in the clumsy embrace forever. But soon, she heard Rick's voice, whispering harsh words to Lori outside the cell door and she sighed into Daryl's mouth, reluctantly loosening her lips from his.

"Anything out there, Connor?" Rick murmured into the radio as he strode down the corridor, the rest of them fast on his heels.

"Nothin' out there." Came the crackly response.

As they came closer to the door, Rick started talking to Tyreese, there to bolt the door behind them.

"If this goes to hell, I need you to get everyone out of here. T-Dog has the location of a place we've stayed before. I need you to watch over my wife and son." Rick stopped in front of the heavy metal exit door, turning to face Tyreese behind him.

To his credit, Tyreese didn't even hesitate. "Of course. Any inkling of trouble and we're out of here." Rick nodded his appreciation.

"Enough of the chit chat, let's roll." Daryl ordered, reaching past them for the door handle. As he made to pull it, it twisted under his palm and he froze.

The others noticed his reaction immediately and hands went to weapons.

"I thought Connor said it was clear!" Glenn hissed.

"Loose Walker?" Tyreese murmured.

Daryl pushed Carol back, made a gesture for Rick to raise his weapon as he reached for the door once more. He wrenched it open quickly, stepping out of Rick's line of fire. From Carol's position, she couldn't see the doorway, only the beam of afternoon sunlight as it burned a trail into the dark corridor.

"Hold it!" Rick held his gun firmly in front of him and Carol saw the shadow of the figure across the floor, the long mark of a weapon held in the air.

"I mean no harm." The voice was cool and measured. A female. The weapon was lowered. "I am a friend of Andrea. And I come seeking help."


End file.
